Deepest River
by Pekorimomo
Summary: Four years after graduation, and it's WWIII. The Host Club graduated, but one day, Kyouya shows up at Haruhi's door, inviting her to a day without war and a new chance at further education. What will she do?
1. Chapter 1

"Deepest River"

Chapter 1

She glanced over her shoulder. As always, there was nothing there, but only her instinctive feeling of something behind her. She was never going to break the habit if she kept submitting to her senses like this, and she knew this too, and so came a sigh. Memories were always attacking her like this, little by little each day, slowly stroking that surface of her inner conscious that kept her herself.

She knew one day it would cease the gentle lamentation and advance to something greater, something she'd come to hate.

Haruhi walked on, going down the street with only half her mind where it was supposed to be, shopping. She picked up a few apples from a vendor who looked like he was worse off than her, so sympathy overtook her to buy three apples from her. Farmers had to work hard these days to even sell anything, but society still had to eat, regardless which class you belonged to.

The apples were a gorgeous deep red, the shade you just didn't see everyday anymore. The days now were not the way it used to; seem to be a faint dry stain of what the old days used to be. Apples weren't the same anymore, neither were people.

Of course, she was not an exception to this concept herself. She thought the world was getting staler, but maybe, it's just her view that's getting staler.

She threw this thought away as she concentrated the rest of her mind to resist the five urges in the last half an hour to turn around. Instead, she turned to look at streams of sunlight seeping through the oak leaves above her, enhancing the shade given to the branches below. A hot wave floated pass her, under her nose and chin, taking its time, as if teasing the sweat drops gathering on her neck, taking care to make sure that it annoyed her. A warm summer's day it was that early morning, and if she did not go home to take a shower soon, a shortage of water might befall the little town again.

"Again," she thought sardonically, as her mind leapt back to three weeks ago, when the water supply was all used up from the water tower. Ever since the war started between Japan, German, and the US, precautions and water rations were issued. It wasn't you had had to use coupons to get bottles of water, but you had to restrict your amount of using it. Naturally, the whole town cheated somewhat, taking showers and watering their plants, viewing the war as nothing but a speck of mould on a mound of soil.

Yes, it was times of war, just as it had been in the Second World War, countries siding with countries. Thankfully she lived in a small town, modern, but not attractive, where no soldiers were going to lay their bloody footprint on their cherished soil. They will not come, and order them to manufacture weapons for them; they will not come for housing. The spirits of their little town, two story apartments, chipped alleyways, their dried up riverbank, and occasional night markets, which they've all grown accustomed to, will not allow soldiers into their place. It wasn't a paradise, or a dream of someone, but it was a hometown they grew up in.

True, she herself, Haruhi Fujioka, had went for education at Ouran, one of the best high schools in all of Japan on a scholarship, but after four years since leaving it, she felt distant from that time she spent in it's richness, glamorous walls, and probably lilac-scented washrooms. She didn't do anything with her education, did not even pursue a future career, because the war had descended upon them, and stopped all education process from continuing in Japan for the government to save money towards war benefits.

Here, she clenched her fists stereotypically. How she loathed the government. After the announcement of Japan declaring war, her father was drafted, along with all his drinking buddies. He left her with a smile, saying that nothing will get the best of him, especially if he dressed up again during wartime and gets mistaken as a girl.

Sure, he was kidding at the time for her sake, as he watched her eyes squint to keep back the tears, but somehow, she felt that he meant it, and told him to run if bombings ever started. His regiment left next morning, leaving her alone in the house, using the money they had left, careful to make it last for atleast two years. Nobody knew how long this war was going to be.

Oh great…now she thought about the war again. Slumping with grocery bag in one hand, using the other to keep her eyes out of the sun, Haruhi streamed back home dragging her feet as the wave trickled past her legs, carrying the folds of her blue summer dress with it. Turning the alley, she arrived in front of her bland white apartment, long yellowed from the decades of rain beating against the roofs.

She took a step back in front of the door. There was a black limousine parked out in front. Such a rarity amongst these days! The limo stood out in the town scenery as a peacock would against a flock of pigeons.

Haruhi dared not go near it, for fear of offending whatever rich snob resided beyond the shaded windows, designed to deny their eyes of poor pilgrims like her.

But still, she thought unconsciously, this could not have reminded her more of her days at Ouran, when everybody except her seemed to come from some sort of big, brand name company.

She rubbed her eyes of the dust from the dirt ground and walked to the door, struggling to find her keys. While she looked down towards her pocket, she saw a blacked hair, spectacled young man sitting down beside her doormat, staring into the ugly plain view outside her window, looking more than bored, as if he couldn't help but sit there, crouched in the corner.

He seemed not to have noticed her, but Haruhi enlarged her eyes.

"Kyouya?" she almost blurted out, but made it sound polite at the last second. She looked again; it was surely him, obviously matured. Along the way, he must have gained something, for the look in his eyes greatly occupied her for a moment.

He turned his face around, away from the front of the grey, drab building. He stood up and faced her. She was surprised that he was a bit taller than he used to be.

He smiled that smile which earned him a secret nickname of her's "shadow king" in her mind. "Haruhi, shall we go in?"

She had no idea why he would say this, but Kyouya had suggested this without any pleasantries after four years of not seeing her. She decided it must be important and said no word while she unlocked her tiny apartment on the first floor. They stepped into the living room.

Why was he here? After four years of not seeing each other, and even no contact whatsoever, he was suddenly here out of the blue, but for what reason? She was never that close with Kyouya, for he was never one to approach her and talk, and certainly, she was not going to approach someone who controlled everyone in the host club secretly with intelligence.

She set down her groceries and offered a chair by the dining table to him. He took it and sat down by the window. She went over and poured him a glass of water, setting it on the table then sitting down herself opposite him. No word was spoken between them, but she supposed he would open up the conversation. After all, he was the one who somehow tracked her down to her home.

How he was still here, and not drafted, she wouldn't know. Rich people always had their way she supposed.

"Haruhi," he opened, "I'm here to talk to you today, on behalf of Tamaki."

She should've guessed. Kyouya was only here for Tamaki, he'd never do anything for other people like this.

"What is it? You seem to come a long way here," said Haruhi naturally. She didn't want things to be tense.

"Not really, I was stopping in Japan for three days. I'm leaving tomorrow."

"You are? But…" Haruhi thought his reply strange, "that means you're not living in Japan?"

His eyes grinned. "No, I'm not. I've moved to France to study there, along with Tamaki. It's quite nice there actually."

Haruhi looked at him, not satisfied with his answer for some reason, even though he answered it to the extent of all it could be worth. He saw this and added, "because we're escaping war. Our parents are afraid that we'll get drafted, and have no one to help run their company, you see."

She snorted immediately. Exactly as she thought earlier. Rich people will always be that way, that was just their logic, regardless of the fact that it may be unfair for other to enter battle, just because they were poor.

"So…what are you doing here then?"

Kyouya looked out the window where the sun was sliding behind the clouds, or rather, the clouds were covering it. He looked down for a second, then at her face. Important things required serious faces, but he just couldn't put one up today. Seeing Haruhi doing okay after four years of leaving Ouran made him feel dry inside. The war had not affected her, probably because of her rural surroundings, but only made her lose a bit of colour from her cheeks.

"I'm here today on behalf of Tamaki. He wants you to go to Paris."

The statement rang throughout the kitchen. He had kept it short and simple. She felt as if she could hear the dust fall from the kitchen counter to the floor.

A "huh?" was all she could muster.

He became serious. "Ever since we graduated, me and Tamaki that is, he's always been looking out for you, making sure that your scholarship withstood until you graduated. We applied for a university in Japan naturally, but because of the oncoming war, we transferred to Paris to escape, well," he slowed down, "our parents wanted us to anyway."

She was barely listening, calculating what this meant. If Kyouya was truly, honest to god, not lying to her right now, then that meant she would have the chance to attend school again, study abroad, and continue her life.

"Kyouya—wait I—"

He held up a hand to silence her as politely as he could. "I realize it may be strange, under all these circumstances, but you have to understand that Tamaki views you as a close friend. He wants you away from Japan, especially since the newspapers say that the war will escalate even further in a month or so. He also realizes that the only reason you're not studying outside Japan is due to your family's financial level, so he's sent me with a message saying that he himself will take all your financial problems to getting there."

Here she stopped thinking. Tamaki was paying for her again. Ever since she found out that the scholarship was paid for by Tamaki, she couldn't help but feel a slight tension of embarrassment, as she was so ignorant of how he took care of her.

"Why didn't Tamaki tell me himself? Or just phoned me? I'm sure you would have no problem getting my phone number, senpai."

"True as it may be, Tamaki is taking care of his mother, who also went to France from the US. He was going to come himself, but I convinced not to. He was really worried, that idiot."

"I see…" she said, looking down. It was World War III, he had a sick mother, but he was still looking out for her. She didn't want to accept such a big favour from him, but could a helping hand of friendship really be considered a "favour"? Perhaps, she could discuss the money issue with him later on; she could pay him off when she got a job. Certainly, she did not want to live with the conscious of owing a friend such a great sum in her lifetime.

Seeing her look, Kyouya said, "Of course, the choice is yours, but," his eyes were directly in her's, "you only have a day to decide. I said I'm leaving tomorrow, and if you choose to go, I'll pick you up tomorrow and we go together. If not, then that's that, but I think he'll be somewhat," he clicked his tongue, "depressed."

He got up, and slid the chair back in position. He took a drink, as if not to be impolite, and said goodbye, letting himself out, leaving Haruhi sitting in the kitchen for a long time, thinking about herself.

She did not know what to do, or what to say of this. Little did she know that as Kyouya walked past the metal fence of the apartment building to his hired limo, he was scoffing and smiling yet again.

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	2. Chapter 2

"Deepest River"

Chapter 2

She sat in her room on top of her sheet. Since she could remember, her family had never bought mattresses. Thick cotton sheets had always been good enough for them, and conveniently rolls up to fit in the closet every morning. Such a space saver, she never wondered why rich people haven't thought of things this way.

The heat from yesterday disappeared as quickly as it had first appeared. It was a mild cool day today, quite unlike the type of summer she was used to, moisture in the air and on the leaves outside. It felt like the weather knew exactly she was feeling. No, it wasn't raining, but you could feel it was going to.

She stared into the stained ridges of the corners of the bedroom, made from when she had sprayed a water gun up in the house when she was little. She had loved this small apartment, and never felt reminded of their wealth by it. It was a simple home full of delicious memories, all flavours at the tip of her tongue. She still remembered her father holding her up with his hands before the first day of school, and a vague image of her mother cooking on the stove.

Haruhi looked down now. She was going to be leaving all this behind, for how long she didn't know, just as no one knew when the war would end. She drew a logic conclusion that when the war ended, she would be able to return.

As she stayed with her mind on the subject, she filled the saucer on top of the stove with milk and warmed it. She sat down on the table with a piece of paper and pencil while waiting for the milk to warm, placing a slice of red bean bread in her mouth as she did so. What will she write to her dad? She would have to inform him of this sudden arrangement, in case his regiment should ever stop into town, and he finding his daughter missing would only set him off with arms about him.

She decided to keep it short, explaining that she was merely accepting the favour of a friend in pursuing education, and she would return home as soon as possible.

There it was again, the word "favour" popped in automatically as she reviewed this plan. She did not like the fact that he was always so nice to her, and she never thanking him properly, only giving him sardonic glances once in a while when he went into a fit of being "neglected by Haruhi." Apparently he was a lot like his father, as Kyouya had once mentioned to her, and the twins had agreed.

Oh yeah…she thought. Hikaru and Kaoru…she wondered where they were. Neither of them had sought to keep in touch with her either, even though she had thought they were pretty close with her during the school year. Graduation had been one of the moments in life that you just could not forget for her. The twins had everything planned for her, being the only ones in the Host Club that still remained at school with her. They bought her gown, her shoes, her bag, her earrings, everything! They even forced her into a salon that day, previous to the dance which followed.

Now, one must wonder, how did Haruhi go as a girl instead of a male companion, which she has been so suave in the persuasion of other girls?

In their last year, after all their senpais in the host club had graduated, Hikaru and Kaoru announced on the speakers for the whole school that third year Fujioka Haruhi, the beloved "natural" of the infamous Host Club, was biologically, a girl. Of course, the girls who designated her went into hysterics, not because they were disgusted at flirting with a girl, but because they lost the one guy they had admired so much to the sex they were so familiar with. Most girls accepted the fact sadly, but one had even ran crying to her, then placed her hands onto Haruhi's chest to check if it was true of not. This surprised Haruhi to a great extent, and was careful to "heighten" her sense of the sexes, if possible at all.

To supplement the reaction of almost all the girls at the school, the guys were giving her looks too. However, she could not even began to apprehend what they meant when they clicked their tongues at her as she walked down a banister of stairs, or when then continually asked for help with homework, when they had never done so before when Haruhi was a guy. She helped them, yes, but all the love letters slipped into her desk was really getting annoying.

The twins shook their heads at this, and so played the announcement so perfectly as the beginning of the school year that no one was sure to ever denounce Haruhi's gender. She remembered reading during the announcement, not even noticing the many eyes turned towards her until the very end. Afterwards, Kaoru told her to wear the school dress, yellow and light, but she just could not get used to it. Hikaru made no attempt to stop Kaoru, only giving Haruhi that if she felt the dress uncomfortable, she should just switch back to male clothing.

She was truly thankful both of them as the thought back. They had thought she deserved a memorable year at high school, even though she broke the vase. They even took her skiing once, thinking that she had probably never seen snow, which she hadn't.

She realized yet again, as she sat in her old kitchen, how she missed the school. She felt heavy inside her heart as she realized she should have done her part back then, giving them more than she had.

Trying to dispel this, she walked over briskly over to the stove and practically threw the hot milk down her throat, hoping the tinge would make her think of something else. She copied the note she wrote, one to send and one to leave at home incase her father ever comes back.

Kyouya sat on his seat looking fatigued as he watched Haruhi from the shaded window, coming towards the car hulling a luggage which probably weighed more than she ever will. He was not pleased that his driver had not helped her out sooner, but seeing his employer's angry glance, the driver set off immediately, apologizing to Haruhi frantically, with fear of getting fired before the paycheck landed in his hands. The driver was about to open the door for Haruhi, but she did it herself, saying that it was okay. Kyouya looked at this. She growing up as a commoner will always leave her with things he and the rest of rich people will never know of. She will always be the one to work hard, but—here, he thought in another perspective—the world did not always reward hard workers. He knew this clearly.

"Hello Kyouya," Haruhi said cheerfully, wearing a jeans and a simple t-shirt. She probably thought that a dress would be too much for going on a plane, and in fact, it was true. All the times he saw ladies in first class wearing elaborate dresses, and then having to hear them complain with distress that they could not sort out their frills or something like that, was just plain annoying. Wisdom of the commoners were always so logical, so straight-to-the-point, that he could not see anything wrong with it. They had developed their ways to get around life without riches; their survival chances were much higher.

"Glad to see you're coming with me," he replied with a smile. "I notified Tamaki already, he should be expecting us in the airport of Paris."

"Huh? But how could you have known that I would say yes?" Haruhi questioned. Certainly, Kyouya could not know everything!

"I knew you would come," was all he said. She decided that would have to satisfy her, knowing that he would not go further even if she pursued the subject. Looking out the window as the tired driver started the limo, she realized how out-of-bounds she felt in the limo. She never realized how wealthy could get so materialistic and dependent of fine luxury, when people like her got on just fine without them. All the resources and money they saved…or, could not afford to spend that is…

Haha…she thought to herself. More ponderings of the way the world should be, and she would go insane. She was around rich people, sitting beside a person who could probably buy a small city with their amount of money, and that was all, all in the moderation of how life went for her.

They ceased to talk, but Kyouya observed quietly as they drove on, over the highways, waterways, tunnels, and eventually they could see the airport from afar. She had nothing she really wanted in the world, only a few basic things. Such a person rarely seen these days, one of them surely liked her back then.

However, it was not him. He had always stayed out of the relationship circle, not just with her, but with every other girl who could have ever hoped to be with him, which is quite strange, considering that he was the handsome one in the Host Club.

Droplets of clear water fell onto the window as her lips parted slightly out of habit.

He decided then that Haruhi was a rare commodity these days.

The limousine stopped in the VIP parking area. The driver stepped off the car and opened the door gracefully with too much smile. He was going to have to work on that.

Kyouya stepped off, offering a hand to Haruhi as he went out. She took it, and they walked towards the gate together, with the driver lagging behind them with the entire luggage Kyouya and Haruhi brought, which were only two suitcases, thus proving the driver was the sort who needed to work out.

The air conditioner blew her bangs back lastingly as they entered the door, wiping away all her concerns for the trip. She was worried at first, but what could go wrong? It was just a simple trip, that was all. She was sure Kyouya would not have gone wrong on his calculations, since this involved him too, not just her. If the trip had just been her alone, she was sure he would have left her out on a branch to bake in the sun for sure.

After all the standard procedure was done, checking off their luggage, bidding a hearty farewell to the driver, by which Kyouya handed him a check deviously, they got aboard the plane immediately. As for the passport, he had taken care of that too—legally, that is. He knew she would not get on the plane with something off the black market.

Haruhi had been absolutely annoyed with the rich people's needs at Ouran, how they had dressed everything up in lavishing red and gold, antique vases around every corner with no one to appreciate it, but the first class seats was like a sharp prick in her head. Annoying, and she could not dare to sit in them, knowing that somewhere in the back of the plane, a mother and baby needed the space much more than she did. She tried convincing Kyouya that the mother and child needed their seats more than they did, but he flat out refused to let their seats go. An act of hospitality which involved him sitting amongst a sea of "commoners" was just unthinkable to him.

She stared at him in disbelief, right before he offered her a bag of peanuts. It was as if the gesture itself was mocking her.

The plane went off the runway with Haruhi looking out the window, heart lifting into a feeling she could not describe. It was deliberate joy she supposed, having never taken off the ground in her entire life. He watched her with a bored expression. How many times he had been on the plane, he asked himself.

During the trip, she asked Kyouya several things regarding the plane, all which greatly amused him, such as why everybody had complimentary slippers. She could not understand why they offered customers slippers when they had their own shoes. Furthermore, the individual mini television screens had her clicking away for an hour before she fell asleep beside him. The plane rocked a bit, by the surface wind above them, letting her head fall on his shoulders.

He watched her as she breathed gently. He got annoyed, not being able to move now, in case of waking her up. Books and movies always said girls slept with smiles on their faces, enticing those around them, but Haruhi had now smile, just a resting expression that told so much about her with just that alone.

As his eyes wandered from her face down to the pair of skinny hands on top of her lap, the plane gave a mighty sudden jerk. If Kyouya had not thought fast to grab her shoulders, she would have fallen out of her seats.

He wasn't happy. What type of plane these days, with all the technology available and auto-pilot feature could make such an elementary mistake?

A few screams erupted through the deck, some thinking that perhaps terrorists were here to rob them of their jewelry. It was a hijack, but they were not outnumbered.

Kyouya remained calm, as he had always been instructed to in situations. There were probably not a lot of them, and he did not think it was a suicide mission. War was about winning over the other side, not committing suicide.

He turned quickly to wake Haruhi, but stopped his hands as he saw her already staring at him in alarm. She was not scared of centipedes or of Tamaki's overwhelming obsessions over her, but did she fear this? Her eyes said nothing of her inner feelings here, and he hesitated to say anything to her right now, as the eyes of everybody else darted around, in this situation.

After a minute, it was getting weird. No men, or supposedly terrorists, nobody, showed up. He had thought that perhaps hijackers of the enemy wanted to hijack a plane from Japan, but no soldiers had yet showed up yet. It was getting weird. He did not think it was the pilot's doing, and that it was just a driving mistake, because when the jerk went off, it had felt like something exploded.

Something clicked off in his head. He could not understand as to why he had not thought of this sooner. They had planted bombs onto the plane, releasing one at a time from some far-off distance, watching to make sure they sunk to the depths of the sea. A basic tactic in war: kill some hostages of a particular country, then threaten the country that if do not surrender, they'll kill more..

Adrenalinerushed to his head; was it too late?

Kyouya sprung from his seat to run to the pilot's deck to tell them this, but as he did, another bomb went off, this one being closer to them. It seemed as if a part of left wing fell off. The next thing he knew, he saw Haruhi's hand clutching the arm of the seat as they started falling through the skies with a wave of screams running through the white plane.

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	3. Chapter 3

"Deepest River"

Chapter 3

Haruhi's screams were silenced by a massive overlapping wave of hysterics emitted by other passengers of the white plane, sharing her fear as they did. It felt as if her internal organs were going to fly out of her if she did not close her mouth to hold them in. Lightness grasped her throat and squeezed out no more voice. She grabbed onto the handle beside her as a movement of quick-thinking, but that did not stop her from hitting the ceiling of the plane as they descended with steadfastedness. It hurt, but there was no time to even check for a bruise.

She saw Kyouya's shoulder and grabbed for it immediately for a desperate hold for something stable, causing him to raise a slight alarm.

Table ware, half-finished card games, and toddlers flew about, smashing and bumping. Everything was in anarchy; no laws applied here.

A piece of glass streaked past her face, cutting her left cheek. She winced. It was Kyouya's glasses.

The plane did not fall straight down as many of the passengers thought, but glided with immense speed in half-ridden spirals across the air currents, having only damaged one wing. The result was nevertheless disastrous. She could hear some of her people near her swearing they'll sue the airline company. Even at times like these, possible chance of mortal peril, the rich was still thinking rich.

After what seemed to be five minutes of trying to defend herself from the painful excursions to the ceiling, the plane landed with a slight indent to what was under them, the jerked up as the plane floated above sea water. Everything that lopped a minute ago stopped. Noise seemed to cease. Some got up slowly holding their head, others stopped moving at all.

Haruhi opened her eyes. She saw that she had fallen in the aisle between the chairs. She was surprised at something warm and soft beneath her. She looked down, and to her astonishment, she was on top of Kyouya's back. He was lying on the floor face-down, struggling with both his and her weight, trying to get up. She automatically concluded that was why she didn't seem to get the worse of the fall to sea. His back was there to cushion her.

She heard him groaning beneath her. She hastily got off, apologizing frantically. She looked around the pair of glasses which scraped her face, but found them crushed nearby whilst the plane was falling. She picked it up as he got up, putting them in his hands.

"Kyouya, your glasses broke," she said simply with a frown. She saw his face as he got up. He was a bit shaken but she could tell his character was not about to let an accident like this get the best of him. He was not seriously hurt.

"It's okay," he said as if shrugging, "but my god, my back hurts." He wiped back his bangs in disconcern as he saw a light-red blush appear before him upon her cheeks. He knew it was Haruhi on him right from the beginning. The soft weight was unmistakable. She had lurched for his shoulders as a stronghold while the plane toppled a second after, driving her with force onto his back. He tried to shake it off as Haruhi was watching him in concern, but it was no easy task. His back really hurt.

"Are you okay?"

"I'm fine," he grunted, picking himself up off the ground. "Are they evacuating the plane?"

Haruhi had no idea. She saw people around who were just as distressed and as in disarray as her. Some were still on the ground, eyes not open. She hoped the toddler was only unconscious.

Kyouya suddenly grabbed her hand and lifted her up with a force worthy of a jerk. He started walking with focus as to not trip and fall to the door of the plane, pulling Haruhi along behind him as to not to daddle along. If evacuation was in session, he wanted to get off the plane as soon as possible. He could not help thinking the situation was so unlike those often seen in movies. This was not a time of gallantry or chivalry. He could not whisk her away in his arms to save time, nor subdue her fears with pretty language. Neither saved time, so pulling her along was best. He could not let harm befall her on behalf of Tamaki.

Their belongings were no where to be found where they were sitting, probably flew to somewhere else on deck, but his instincts told him there was no time to search for them. All those excessive times watching too much of the famous movie with Tamaki, where the ship that was thought to be unsinkable, gave him bad feelings and horrible images at that moment. He wished he had not been so bored as to watch the movie with Tamaki at the time, regretting it now more and more as the moment dragged on.

She followed Kyouya, or rather, let him drag her, because she did not know the faintest of what to do. She was sure he did, and nothing was spoken between them. At the moment, she felt lucky that the plane had not exploded in the air.

She took a deep breath and paused. They were at the door. Plane passengers who had woken up like them were panicking and trying to hop onto the slide leading from the doorway to the rubber dinghy lifeboat beneath. She looked and hoped it could fit everybody aboard the plane, but then, why was the plane crew stopping the business and economy class from their boat? She heard them explaining that they must get onto the lifeboat within their class, otherwise the way they organized the escape route would be messed up.

Surely, class prejudice was not among humans these days? She felt a sweat drop slide down her chin slowly. Of course it was possible.

Kyouya lead the way to the doorway, not even pausing to follow the lineup the first class passengers made for the sake of politeness and class. He was just so sure of himself and his family's wealth, a pride that would surely be his downfall one day.

"Come on," he ushered to Haruhi, as he stepped by the doorway, getting ready to go down, blind and deaf to the angry complaints of the others. She side-stepped in between the crowd carefully, making her way along the wall to him, grabbing his hands to support herself from falling. He placed her in front of him in between his legs as to catch her if she happened to start tumbling. On the way down, upon the rubbery slide, the trip reminded her of her childhood days upon a slide in the park.

They landed softly both feet on the ground, and soon got out of the way for others incoming their way. He got up and held her hands as they went over to the opposite side of the boat so sit down. She felt the warmth in his hands, and wondered why he held her hands so much. She was scared of the situation a bit, knowing that they were attacked, but so was he. He was comforting her without words that moment, but was this just a habit from when he was in the Host Club? He had never flirted much with the girls, but if it was for profits, that was another story.

Both of them sat quietly while waiting for the boat to finish loading, a lot of the newly arrived passengers shooting Kyouya glares, to which he gladly smirked. Haruhi did not say anything to this, and kept her comments to herself. Kyouya seemed to have morals and beliefs far from what the rest of the world followed.

The yellow air-inflated boat eventually filled up, along with all the other life boats. She felt thankful inside when the knowledge that every passenger and crew got on reached her. And so, the lifeboats, more than twenty from what she could see, floated on top the blue sea into the night, bringing along strands of seaweed now and then, not that you could eat them.

The moon arose, crescent form glowing even amongst the dark waters, accompanied by tiny sparks of light. The temperature drop was well-noticed by people, as she soon saw them huddling together and looking for blankets upon the boats. She shivered and let out a breath. It dissipated into the night air. She thought she should have brought a jacket, but that was in her trunk, which was

Oh god, she thought, they all sunk. The trivial idea had never occurred to her until that moment, not caring for objects and possessions as much as the rest of the materialistic society she lived in. Haruhi turned her head to look beside her, was Kyouya mad? She knew fine things were just as important to wealthy people as regular objects were to not-so-wealthy people, because they fact still stands that wealthy people paid for their things—they just paid more for things.

"Kyouya, are you angry that our entire luggage sunk?" she asked, seeing his obviously annoyed, and perhaps a bit tired, expression.

"No…" he replied slowly and casually, as if amiss the whole situation, worry did not dominate him. "I'm fine with it," he then added, "but you Haruhi,"

"What about me?"

"You lost your things too. We'll have to buy your clothes once we reach France."

She frowned, but knew she couldn't help it. She had almost no money to buy new clothes, and it wasn't as if she could go parading the streets of Paris naked. However, she made up her mind that if either Kyouya or Tamaki were buying her clothes, she would make sure to choose the cheapest one, as to not be so much a burden in their lives.

"Yeah…" was all she could say before letting out a sneeze. She rubbed her nose and rubbed her arms with her hands to warm herself. The cold air had gotten the best of her, and she was trying to resist the notion of getting a cold.

"You should have told me you were cold" he said, taking off his jacket and handing it to her. "Put this around you."

"No wait—" she said firmly, pushing the jacket away. The jacket was his, if he gave it to her he would be cold, and having just decided that she didn't want to be a burden a moment ago, "I'm not cold, I was just—"

Haruhi sneezed again. Her nose had betrayed her at a bad moment. Kyouya looked at her red stuffy nose with amusement and placed the jacket on her shoulders, careful as to not let it slide off. He was wearing more than her, seeing that she probably only had a t-shirt and bra underneath, so he was sure he could spare the jacket. She did not say anything as he did this. He was sure she was embarrassed at having to be taken care of.

She pulled the jacket closer to her as the night progressed, bringing colder atmospheres, and eventually falling asleep beside him, her hair gently swaying as the boat swayed—same rhythm and time. He used his hands and placed her head onto his shoulders for support. She was tired. The day had been too much for one lifetime.

He could feel her breath slightly as he observed the other passengers with a bored expression.


	4. Chapter 4

"Deepest River"

Chapter 4

Amidst the blackness, she heard water swishing. It was gentle, it was slow, taking all the time it had in the world, tickling the boat with no greater intention than to sway its passengers back and forth, as if rocking them to sleep. She opened her eyes and saw things with a layer of blur over them. She focused them onto the yellow crescent moon above them which attracted other pairs of eyes below itself. If they weren't passengers on a cold sea's night, she would have enjoyed a picturesque idea such as this.

Haruhi's right hand immediately flew up to squeeze her nose as the urge to sneeze came up again. She would not let her nose betray her again; it would wake Kyouya up for sure, and after it took him such a long time to fall asleep too…

She turned her head slightly as to not disturb him. His face wore a tired and resting expression, which surprised her a bit. She did not suppose anyone like him would have slept as gingerly, probably simply because he was so hard and rigid most of the time, and did not let his guard down. Without glasses, he gave her an image of Tamaki, but slightly different. Trickery had he always played on his face, and she had believed it. She did not expect this sort of grace.

Finally, the rich and the normal shared something in common. She would not use the word "poor" because she wasn't, only lacking in the amount students at Ouran would have speculated her to have. No matter what one did, or however rich they could be, they could not buy one natural, good night's sleep from anyone or anywhere.

It took her a moment, ever since waking up, but her cheeks spiced up as the white on her cheeks turned into a pink blush. She had not noticed, or merely was distracted otherwise, but a weight was on her shoulder the whole time. Kyouya had his trimmed fine hand around her shoulder, and was bringing her firmly into himself, leaving her no choice but to lean up again him with her whole body. She looked around and nobody else expect for married and couples who were in each other's arms. She blushed again. People were probably getting the wrong idea about him and her.

Her mind wandered a bit, just to escape the last thought, but the cold wind came again to remind her of reality. Sure, the crew was paddling their little excuse of a dinghy on the great ocean, but that was no explanation on why it was so deadly cold that night, and she was more glad than ever that she took a washroom break before the breakdown of the plane.

But they were alive.

She leaned in towards him and lowered her eyes just a little. For all the danger she knew they were in, she felt safe. His jacket did feel nice, so then, what did she feel uneasy for? Looking around through half-closed eyes, would they still be able to get to Paris? Definitely not on time, surely…

Surely they'd never get to the harbour for a long time, and even then, which harbour exactly? She felt certain that the crew on board weren't sure themselves of exactly where they were; uncertainness reigned over the atmosphere as an utmost layer of indifference to most people. Compasses were always the tools of rescue in the stories she heard, guiding, while the hand around them neither trembled with fear, nor stained them with sweat, but unfortunately, some stupid junior on his first flight with the pilot had forgotten to fetch the dearly needed compass, letting their arrows point north in the water.

Yes, this was certainly not her day. Back at Ouran, everything always seemed to be against her, whether it was having no say in what she wanted to do, being practically owned by the Host Club, or just being teased by the twins, having an off day then did not seem out of the ordinary. It was—something that just went along with her daily routines. She remembered once Hikaru and Kaoru kept pestering her to spend her spring break with them, at another exotic resort on the other hemisphere, saying she should stop being a bookworm and enjoy the "golden years of teenage-hood" and they would not take no for an answer. Oh, how they tried to convince her, bribing her, asking her father, taking her notebook and saying that if she didn't go they'd burn her homework, and even getting Hunny and Mori-sempai to help them. Sure they had put up a fair argument, but that only attracted Tamaki to the fight. It became the fight for Haruhi's vacation, and strangely--here she blinked—she had agreed to Australia for a week, with Tamaki, but it was only after Hunny's often reasonable input into a conversation that made her change her mind about going on vacation. Where Hunny was now…she could not say, but a few months ago in the newspaper made her worry so, and where Hunny was, Mori was surely present.

She told herself to calm down. Suddenly, breaking the mood suitable for an afternoon rendez-vous at a French country café were it not for the wet state of her clothes, a hand on board cried out.

"Ship sighted! On our left in the far distance!" With this, Haruhi saw that those awake around her spun their necks full of hope at delight at the sudden feeling of being saved, as if the sight of the faint light ahead of them was all it took to return them to their comforts of feather coverings and memory foam. She thought it unlikely they would be saved with speed, but atleast it was something. She saw it too, it was not a star, not another plane, but the quaint lights belonged to those of a freight ship, one of old designs perhaps? She turned to wake Kyouya up to the new event, but to her surprise, he was already eyeing the ship with a hard, intense look. Something else was obviously bothering him enough for him not to be overjoyed at the first sight and hint of a change of clothes.

Ever since seeing Kyouya long ago in that "commoner's shopping center," as they had called it, helping out the old lady from buying a fake item, she had always had an opinion on his eye. Although the lady turned out to be the owner of some company or rather, but still, it was a turn for him, being the good guy. Intense as it seems to be under his gaze, it could spot things from a mile away. She decided to find out what was wrong.

"What's wrong Kyouya?" She saw him squinting with all his might without his glasses.

"Isn't that a—" here he stopped and squinted harder, "—German ship?"

Haruhi's eyes widened. How could she not notice the obvious black red and yellow? Murmurs of fear fluttered throughout their craft as others also realized that it was not help on the way.

"No..." she heard a woman cry out softly with no voice. Haruhi felt almost as let down by this turn of events, but she did not express her disappointment out loud. She felt that this whole fiasco had not affected her as much as the people surrounding her.

Beside her, Kyouya swore quietly, clearly not caring if he offended anyone else. "We'll have trouble now. They'll either take us back to Germany as hostages for making deals with Japan, or they'll shoot us."

"What?" she said. It wasn't really a question, but she had moral doubts about anybody that could kill another human being. How could one pull the trigger? Even if you came to regret it later, sympathy and compassion had nothing in themselves to save those you shot. When she was little, it had never occurred to her, while watching police shows, that the men who fell on the ground, were so-called, dead. She had not understood what it meant for a body stop moving.

"I doubt they'll end out lives just yet though…hostages will be the easy way out when they're negotiating for oil. However, it's very unlikely that their freight ship is traveling in the atlantic all alone without any protection…"

After this she heard nothing. She watched the grey mass of ship approach them with an air of foreboding silence. It was a huge ship with much empty bulk and space, all for carrying supplies she supposed, with a single flag erected on the topmost deck. She was almost surprised not to see smoke stacks poking out from the roofs of the ship, thinking that it would be old-fashioned for some reason. Perhaps it was the similarities between now and that of World War II. And she, a young women stranded in the middle of the ocean.

The ship came so close to them until it felt like its mass would overtake their small lifeboat, each one full of over eighty passengers. She felt others around her hold their breaths as a slim rope ladder was unfurled from the top, three men with brown hair colours slid quickly down. They all eyed the men with caution, contempt at the guns slung on their back. With their expressions and clothing, it was quite clear they were military men. They dared not to make any sound.

However, before the soldiers said anything, they heard a distinct low hum from overhead, with increasing force. Her head turned up instinctively. It was an airplane. Well, not exactly an airplane for passengers bustling with flight attendants, but one filled with bombs and bullets. A plane capable of killing, accompanying and overseeing their supply ship safely back to home. The hunk of flying technology landed near them, bringing up sprays of seawater onto their faces.

Nobody knew an ounce of German, and it appeared that none of the young soldiers knew Japanese either, but one of them knew English. Commanding in accented English, they were told to file up in line and board plane and ship. Both were destined to end up in Germany, so it was decided that males, being the dominant number, would board the ship, while the female and children would board the plane. The plane would land inland, after the ship docked.

The soldiers pointed their guns in case of resistance, as there was usually some kind of futile rebellion in their presence, for this was war, but the Haruhi saw no one make a sound. Perhaps the rich were afraid that these men, so foreign with their green and brown coloured eyes, would hurt them for the jewelry they were wearing? Or that diamond encrusted watch?

She and Kyouya glanced at each other silently from opposite sides of the boat, waiting their turn to board. He saw her worried look, tensing up her brows, and shook his head with closed eyes. Even he was staying quiet, but it was not an expression of defeat and obedience from him. She felt that if him, with all his better side of judgment, chose not to complain, then she would be wise to stay quiet, even though she desperately did not want to be separated from the only source of friendship she knew of on the ocean.

She could feel her the edge of her eyes begin to swell. He smiled warmly and reached out his hand just before she entered the steps onto the plane. She took it and received a firm squeeze.

The night was still as quiet as it was before, but a riot was starting in the atmosphere. Haruhi let go of his hands and entered the plane without looking back, taking each step as if her whole life's focus were upon her feet. He saw her head enter the shadows of the plane and did not say anything. After all, she didn't say goodbye either, so why should he? They knew they would see each other again, and they were not alone.

His hair was blown back as the engine of the plane fired away, sending her into the sky, while he watched as any mortal would from the ground, keeping up with the ship's sway as it was readying to depart itself. He tightened his grip on the rusted handlebars on deck. They weren't separated, they were just farther apart.

R&R….as always!

Author Notes: First AN on this fanfic….okay. Sorry for the delay, I won't lie to you guys, rather than the usual update I became a tad bit lazy…, but I was in a jam earlier on (confusion!), h/w too, and stomach virus was evil, but anyways, to make up for lost time, I've been writing rather madly, typing and typing away, and now here I amo, a great big thanks to all my readers, could not have done it without your support. Keep the reviews coming…! And I shall try to stay healthy…haha….yeah….I'll drink milk or something…


	5. Chapter 5

"Deepest River"

Chapter 5

She sighed and looked out the grime-covered window as the engine hummed with vibration underneath. No, it wasn't a good plane, and the fact that she was squished between two other people on a tattered cushion bench on the side didn't help either. It was hot and dry. When the burning sunshine spurred in she swore she could see the dust drifting in the air, speck by speck, and when it wasn't the dust, it was usually someone's dandruff. Didn't the rich use shampoo?

This was nobody's ideal situation. The only compensation of traveling in the air and a tight spot a few hours ago was that she was beside a window. Sad as it sounded, and she too knew it was sad, the clouds were her only source of amusement for a few hours, and staring at their distorted shapes occupied her mind for while.

She only hoped just as well that Kyouya was having a better time than she. Surely, a ship would be more spacious and comfortable than a tight-up plane, but little did she know of the supplies which they were carrying were huge in size, and heavy with weight. It was a good thing he was thin to begin with. However, she was not near him anymore.

The plane had stopped accompanying the freight ship as soon it was sure it was well under protection under the German navy, and after that, at once, it set for inland. She had no idea, as the plane was rolling around the military base for the proper docking place after landing, how she was going to reach Kyouya. They were separated for good, and no help was coming to her now, not even the Host Club and their money.

However, as she mused for a minute from her own spare time—merely bored—she refused to be rescued. Haruhi subconsciously tightened her lips at this thought. Too many times have she accepted their favours, but all those times, even though she reasoned with herself, it was true: there was no way of paying them back, even if she tried. A hand of friendship had been extended from them, and she always took it.

The planed stopped, they had docked. A slight murmur went throughout the plane at this new development. It was enough to raise Haruhi's nerves to a much greater height.

What would they do to her? Was there some sort of a special reason as to why they were not landed in the same location as the ship below them?

Two soldiers entered the plane, each wearing uniform and armed with weaponry. They conversed in rapid German, and stared at the little group of perhaps only over fifteen Japanese hostages once in a while to make sure no mutiny would happen. She thought it unfair that they would not tell them what they were going to have to put up with, and that someone should atleast try to convey some sort of means of communication between the two groups.

The black gleaming gun all caught their eyes…it was inevitable that fear should strike their throats down. The handle and trigger was the main source of attention to direct on.

The group of soldiers turned to look at them, and started motioning them out of the plane onto the hard, rough cement of the base. The sun was above them as hot as ever as it was in Japan. Clearly the laws of life and nature must apply here too, despite how foreign their surroundings were. She saw temporarily built buildings, as well as brick ones that must have been as old as the war, because she could not stop gaping at the black exploded bomb marks on the side of one particular worn-out building. Ash-filled crevices were seen on top the entire base.

Before she could take a much better, in-depth look at the place, soldiers ushered them like a flock of sheep into what looked like the central main building. She felt the head of a gun press against her arm and walked silently, careful of where she treaded. Every gravel beneath her feet gave her a slight fear that it was a planted bomb meant to explode on pressure. However, she dismissed this thought. The Germans would not plant bombs upon their own base, would they? She was just being paranoid, and it was crucial to stay calm.

No noise was made as they entered the main doors; brown paint peeling off with no remorse, two lone soldiers on either side guarding their fortress with no expression. Continuing stepping in silence, they found themselves in what seemed to be an office, though none of the disarray and mess about did anything to convince them of the notion. Papers were scattered on desks, with a fat commanding officer in the squeaking chair. A dusty computer sat on the desk to complete the typical image of someone you expected to be evil.

He stared at them with no contempt or the warmth of welcoming them, but why should he? A few of them glared back with no hesitation anyway. A young boy could have hardly been over sixteen, from the looks of it, and seem to be on his first visit to an army base, waited intently beside the commander. As the commander opened his mouth, so did the eyes of the boy flick and dart. Haruhi decided he must be the translator; no army would incorporate someone so young like this without some special purposes.

A low sound emanated from the commander in charge. "Who here is under twenty years old?" said the young soldier in accented English.

No one moved or said anything. For the most part, Haruhi thought it was because most of the Japanese citizens knew no English, but they shifted uncomfortably just the same. She however, understood it perfectly, having studied English in high school, but she was in no want of answering. What would the consequences be?

"I said, who here is under twenty years old?" the boy said in a louder voice now.

Still the room was silent. Haruhi looked around and thought it quite apparent that she was the only one close to being twenty. But nobody said anything, or raised their hand. What should happen to them?

The commander sighed. He took a casual glance around the room, and sure enough, his eyes spotted the brown-haired Japanese girl in t-shirt and jeans. It wasn't as if his eyes were attracted to her, but rather, she stood out from the rest, wearing clothes that seemed of the cheaper quality, and it was more than clear that she was the youngest adult there.

He pointed at her, his fingers moving as little as possible. The young soldier nodded.

"What is your name?" he asked in English.

She did the sensible thing when one asked your name. "Haruhi," was all she said. There would no point to let them know her full name unless they asked for it, and even if they did, she considered quickly providing them a false name.

It was just a bad coincidence that she happened to be the only person that was of the female sex to be traveling on that flight. She calmed herself, waiting for what they wanted with her.

The soldier looked at her attentively. "So you, understand English?"

She nodded quietly. The tension of the room was pressuring her stomach. She could feel stares upon her back.

The soldier nodded for a second time, this time at the commander. The commander muttered something, and then the soldiers in the room began pushing the civilians out of the room. Haruhi looked worried, and thought it best to stick with the majority, but right then, the young soldier stopped her with his hand. He motioned his palm at the chair across from the commander's desk. She sat down quietly.

"How old are you?" the soldier asked.

"I am twenty-two," she replied in her best English, still quiet, looking out of the corner of her eye at the exiting people from the plane, relinquishing the thought that she was alone now, but she looked head on at the commander. It would be rude not to do so. He looked back at her intently, muttering words she could not understand for the boy to translate.

"Why were you traveling on the plane to Paris?"

"I was to meet my good friend for a trip," she said, deciding that honesty was best, but it would not hurt to have caution as to what she said.

"Did you have any companions on the flight?"  
"Yes, but we got separated because he boarded your ship." She had to control herself from adding a certain emphasis of distain on "your."

The commander asked no more. It was clear that there was nothing suspicious about her. He observed that the woman had a serious look in her eyes that could almost be mistaken as hatred and anger, but it was hidden very well underneath her calm composure. But of course, she had been cheated of her flight to Paris with a friend; no doubt there would be some anger there.

This time the commander opened his mouth, and brushed some of his little English together.

"You are scared, right now?"

In truth, the commander had hoped the operation would go smoothly, and indeed, it has. Their plan was to intercept a plane from bounding from Japan to Paris, and hold the passengers as hostage for further negotiations with Japan regarding the crisis. Some resources were getting to be scarce.

Of course, they were going to deliver the passengers to safety if Japan complied. No doubt the airport in Paris would have contacted Japan regarding the plane that never arrived. It was all a matter of time before the Japan government figured it out, and waited for the negotiation call from Germany.

They had planned to send a video through the net, explaining the terms and demands. And to guarantee the safety of the civilians, the commander chose to show a civilian on the film. He thought it would be more effective to use a young beautiful woman on the footage, thought, this particular woman was not as distinguished as he would have hoped for.

He glanced at the face of this not so distinguished woman. She had not answered his question yet, but he was certain that she was afraid of them. However, how she answered would determine her character.

"Yes," she slowly replied, "I am." The air of which she answered was blended together with strict countenance and one trying to face something they were afraid to touch, without showing what they were really going through. The moustached leader thought her firmly placed reply well-answered.

"We are going to send a video feed to Japan, regarding the negotiations and terms for the hostages," said the young soldier at Haruhi. "And we plan to include you in the video."

Her eyes snapped vividly onto the commander's face. A drop of sweat slipped down from her ear to her chin at that precise moment. And, as if to add a dramatic effect to the news, the commander smirked a grunt at her.

Her right hand clutched the arm of the chair, trying to alleviate the fear into another outlet. The feeling of being alone was never more distinct to her before than at that moment. Who she belonged with, the fellow Japanese hostages – as she came to think of them as—were somewhere else while, she was isolated in this dirty, dim-lit room with two foreigners who had captured her.

How she wished at that precise moment that someone would come for her, but no one would, and she knew this herself. Feeling herself breath in and unsteady pace, she told herself to calm down, as she did for several times that day. The room suddenly felt a lot colder than before. To give herself false hope would be too cruel to herself.

But deep inside she was afraid for what she would have to go through with them.

R&R thanks.


	6. Chapter 6

"Deepest River"

Chapter 6

Rubbing her eyes, a blurred vision came into view. Rusty ceilings, pipes, and a smell of metallic substances. Sitting up, she glanced around the room. A simple room it was, consisting of a few chairs, a table with a pitcher and glass of water for her, and the clean cotton cot she was on.

They had brought her here after her discussion, or rather, their one-way talk, about what was to happen to her. She turned her head towards the door. No doubt it was locked from the outside. But she wanted to know where the other hostages were. According to the commander they were being kept in their facility until further notice.

She had hoped he would say something that would reveal, or atleast hint at the location of where Kyouya was being sent. Where was that ship now? She could not imagine how she would get to Paris without his help. And Tamaki, if he was waiting at the airport, surely he would have received the news that their plane was intercepted.

She closed her eyes. This was what she did not like. She had become accustomed, and already requesting for their help in her mind. If anything, with being a lawyer as her goal, she would have to be more independent. This was what she had been afraid of when Kyouya asked her to come with him, that she would become accustomed, then eventually needing their help with everything. Sure, they wanted to help her, but she did not think it was good for her.

And, if anything, she would have to get out of this situation, whether by her own strength or not, even if it was one of the hardest and most serious situations she had ever found herself to be in.

She laid back down on her cot. A cold drop of water fell onto her forehead. She did not know when the video feed would be established with the Japanese government, nor did she know what to say, but they would come get her soon, the German soldiers.

Even if she was being held captive, the room wasn't so bad. The sheets were clean, the floor was not grimy, and although there were no windows, the air conditioning made up for it. One could not call it a cell; the word "room" described it better.

And until then, her resolution had to stay strong.

But her mind wandered elsewhere. She wondered where her father was, and if he would understand why she left home.

"Miss, it's time you get up now," the soldier called into her room.

Haruhi woke up from her nap, stepping into her shoes, and followed the soldier. They walked down a few hallways, and then into an elevator. Although he did not point a gun at her, because she was sure he did not feel the need to point a gun at a young girl with no self-defense techniques up her sleeve, he kept a close, attentive watch on her movements. Very observant, she thought.

"I hope you will not think badly of Germany after this," he said.

She turned to face him suddenly, a little surprise at this. Indeed, she had not thought badly of the Germans during this whole escapade, because such measures were required during war, needed, and if people, even her, got caught in its tangle, then so be it. War, was after, war, the horrid fighting fiend it was.

But to have the young soldier, of who she had really talked to during her stay here because he was the only one who knew English, to ask her to not think badly of Germany, almost as if asking for forgiveness, but not quite, for the commotion they had caused her, was quite compelling.

She studied his face. Young, in his early prime, but not without the signs of grimace, though she could not begin to wonder at what. So young, and recruited into the army too. His hands showed bruises.

In fact, were it not for the fact that they happened to be in an old elevator, him armed with a gun, and she, a girl from his enemy country, she thought she would have probably liked him as a friend.

"I won't," she replied to him simply, with a certain faint light in her eyes. She did not smile at him, nor did furrow her brows at him, simply because there was no reason to. "And do not think badly of Japan either."

He grinned, thinking of what to reply in English. It was certainly good that they were in this elevator. As soon as they get off they could not talk. If his commander saw, he knows not what he would do to him.

"It is the fighting to be blamed."

To have spoken to her first, in such situation as this war, Haruhi remarked, he was still a young boy, and still naïve in some ways, lacking the traits of manhood. However, before she could get further in her thoughts on the soldier, the elevator door opened. They stepped out quietly, with no visual recollection of their conversation.

A connections room and equipment was present, resembling a T.V station. The commander from earlier on was just finishing his blurred speech in German to the video recorder in front of him. She only hoped that someone in Japan could decipher what he said.

"What is he saying?" she asked the young soldier in English, who was standing beside her.

He really did not think he should be telling her, but the information would be known to the Japanese public would it not? She would find out sooner or later, he thought.

"Something about in order to free the hostages, your government will stop competing with our country for the—" he was cut off by another soldier's glare. They did not like it that he was talking to her, even though they themselves could not understand what he had just told the Japanese woman in English.

The commander motioned for someone to stop the recording. He motioned his fingers for Haruhi to come. She sat down in the chair beside her. She felt nervous, and did not like it at all. The room seemed to become darker and darker by the second. But, atleast it was clear that they were not going to do anything bad to her, no mistreatment, answering her own earlier suspicions with a glad sigh.

The young boy came up to her, translating his commander's orders.

"You are to be shown to your foreign affairs minister in a moment," he said, "it is not a two-conversation, but a film shown to the other side."

"What am I to say?" she asked.

"Speak Japanese, and state your full name, and that you were on a flight to Paris, etcetera, but say nothing else. We have someone who understands Japanese in this room."

She thought to herself that she thought she had nothing to say anyway. Clearly, this was just a hostage statement.

"The recorder is to be started in exactly forty seconds, get ready," he advised, then stepped away, careful not to trip on the wires.

She took a deep breath, opening her eyes vividly. She will comply with their terms, and then get away. After this, they will not need her anymore. Hopefully, they will let her go.

But that, she thought, was a hope she could afford to be mistaken with. There were things riding on that hope that she could not drop.

A technician nearby signaled with his fingers, the ten seconds that were left. Whatever she was to say, she had better make it good.

The camera rolled.She cleared her throat, beside the commander.

"I am Fujioka Haruhi. I am at the German army base, held captive in clean conditions. I was on the flight to Paris from Japan exactly one and a half days ago."

She thought she should continue, and offer the government as much information as she could give that would be helpful. After all, they could just be bluffing about the person that knew Japanese in the room. However, she could not completely ignore the stares she felt on her neck from the rest of the soldiers in the room.

She continued. "The plane was hijacked in the air, and then intercepted on the ocean by a plane and a ship. The men were ushered onto the ship while the women and children were brought to this base on the plane. I do not know where the rest of the women and children are now but—"

She was cut off. The commander said something, and then two other soldiers came and lead her out of the room. She did not know what had happened as the pulled her out of the chair roughly, and held her arms behind her back as they exited the room into the elevator, but she figured they must have thought her message too long.

But they must know that I don't know enough information to expose any secrets anyway, she thought, and it was true. Although she's seen the base while exiting the plane, she had never been in Germany before, so she could not say where they were, or what city they were near.

She bit her lip as they went down the elevator. The two soldiers were not like the young soldier, they were older, much tougher, and much rougher with her arms. One held her arms crossed behind her back and tightened their grip on her hands. It hurt. Her strength was not comparable to their's.

They walked her down the hallway, one holding her, the other one leading the way. He opened the door to her room and pushed her in upon release, then closed the door with a hefty bang.

She heard the locks sink in to their places. Grabbing a chair, she sat down. There were red marks on her forearms, not enough to leave a mark, but would be there for perhaps a day.

She poured a glass of water for herself, putting the cold jar against her arms to ease the pain. She sighed. She sort of missed the young soldier.

Glancing around the room, she waited. Was it her bad luck to be immersed in this? Her father had once told her that someone who experienced extreme bad luck must have had their equal share of good luck in the past, or is due for some wondrous fortune in their future.

She was not so sure she believed in this, but did she have good luck in the past? Misfortunes, yes, but good luck?

Winning the scholarship to Ouran was considered an extremely good thing, she supposed, considering that there was only one student that they let in the school on the scholarship program. But…she thought as she assessed the happenings in her life so far, her mother had passed away, but that, she thought, was a foolish thought. Death was not misfortune nor can it be treated as a blessing. Death happens on its own accord, and there was no way to prevent it from taking place if one strayed upon its path too far.

But then, why did war cause death on its own accord, not death's?

She crossed her arms on the table and laid her head down. She did not want to get into more philosophical debates with herself. One had enough problems outside their mind then to have to need to create more arguments inside just to pass the time.

But having something good waiting for her in the future was certainly a charming thought.


	7. Chapter 7

"Deepest River"

_disclaimer: I do not own Ouran High School Host Club._

Chapter 7

Oh my god how did I get myself in this?

The single thought pricked her mind repeatedly as she treaded step after step, across the never ending road in the French country side. Trees were there, many different sorts too, and the dry grass was starting to annoy her too.

The German army had released her that morning, but two miles away from civilization, saying that they could not afford to be caught by the authorities, so they landed her, from a plane, in the middle of the country side, giving her only a pointing finger to the nearest city.

And as to how she got herself into this predicament? Well, running the string of events so far in her mind, she said 'yes' to Kyouya's offer, then boarded the plane, the got hijacked, then went to a German base, then was planted here, the middle of nowhere. It was truly a frustrating situation, but what else was there to do but to keep walking?

The country side, she thought bitterly, honestly. The young English speaking soldier had accompanied her until their goodbye, saying that the commander was kind enough to send her off to her original destination. How loyal he is, she had thought, except the commander failed to realize that I had to walk two miles.

It was noon now, and the heat was really starting to take a toll on her.

And she missed company. The boy had been the only person who had talked to her for at least two days by now. And he was kind too, something one had to get at least a dose of every now and then in life.

She stopped to rest, sitting down on a dry grassy spot alongside the road. She wished desperately that someone going to the city would drive by and let her hitchhike, but so far, nobody had come. It was as if bad luck just followed her everywhere ever since she embarked on her journey from Japan. Impossible to believe, but surely it was true, because the soles of her shoes were more tattered-looking than ever.

She lay down upon the grass. The dry roots itched her back. She sighed. It was nice to rest once in a while.

Oh why didn't anybody come?

As if right on cue, she heard the distant rumbling of an old engine. She jumped up faster than she ever had in her life and looked both ways on the road. She could not miss this opportunity, as divine as water itself would be to her at that moment.

She saw a red truck in the distant. It was dusty and mud-sprayed near the wheels. She waved her hand frantically.

She did not care who it was that drove the truck as long as they could drive her somewhere else, which only denoted her straying path from her character in times of hunger and panic. Waving in a boldly manner, she yelled. The truck stopped beside her.

A scruffy-haired man smiled kindly towards her. The grey hair had bits of black scattered or perhaps dark brown, she could not tell. She took the smile as a good sign and opened the car door tentatively. He made no objections, and this surprised her, but she took a seat behind.

They drove on. Once or twice she would sneak a cautious glance at him via the mirror, careful as to not make herself look suspicious and nosy. Were it not for the age and dirty overalls, she thought that he looked like the spiffing French image of Mori. The likeness was almost bizarre.

And he is a quiet man too, she thought, one of the leading features of her tall silent senpai. It was strange how someone from half way across the world could have such similarities as another.

Her eyes were betraying her. She closed them, protesting against the action in her mind.

She wondered about Mori, and Hunny senpai as they passed an orange grove. She had not spoken to either of them since graduation, likewise with all the others, so she knew nothing about them. Even if they were rich, they did not make any headlines, not that she expected them to anyway.

It was not safe to fall asleep on a kind stranger's car. Her judgment was impaired from the fatigue. Normally she would let herself be so stupid.

However, there was one thing she was sure of: wherever Hunny is, Mori is there with him. There is nothing that could separate those two, and to think, she thought humorously, that she once thought Hunny to be an elementary school student.

Oh yes…those were the days weren't they? She thought half-heartedly, giving up the inner turmoil, letting her eyes rest. Those were days. They were the good days of a few, and the not so wonderful days of others, but…oh indeed they were days, just days, for her.

And as to the ones who did not have great days then, are they having their day now, she often wondered. For those who expected too much never did have their moments. It was better to be like those who had little expectations, and experienced more joy in their times, but one must logically conclude that the joy is to run out one day. But if like her, a day was just a day, as days proceed just days, and then there would be no need or desire for anything else, right?

Ah but who is there to confirm to, when the rest of everybody doesn't know about days, or even the hours they pass. She thought groggily in her sleep, those who wanted expectations and little of it were sure greedy. Even the dearest of dears would have their loss of days would they not?

The car ride continued down the dry aisles of tanned-coloured countryside. By mid-noon, or was it early afternoon, her eyes were drowsy. She did not know the exact time for the old truck's ancient digital clock was shattered, supplying the interior with a look not befitting of the affectionate old man. The old man drove into the Parisian streets in a long stretched curve. He saw her asleep and proceeded to prod her arm gently.

She woke up, startled and embarrassed for falling asleep, and hopped off the car quickly and thanked him. He smiled back and drove away. Stepping back and taking a look around her, she breathed in, and coughed, rather roughly, from the gulp of exhaust she took in from a departing automobile.

She noticed the blocks of little shops, boutiques, coffee houses, restaurants, and others. He must have dropped her off not too far from downtown, she supposed. Walking on, she worried about the night. She bit her lower lip from the nervousness pouring down upon her shoulders. She had no idea where she would live, and how to get back to Japan.

She turned her head swiftly to a shop window. She studied her reflection. Didn't Kyouya say that Tamaki was in Paris? The thought had momentarily slipped her mind on the truck ride.

Her right foot continued moving, leading her down the streets. It was bizarre, a dirty muddy Japanese girl walking down a delightful summer street. Not really paying attention to where she was stepping, she walked awkwardly along the cracks of the dried red pavement. As she reached a cross section, something caught her eye abruptly across the street. Were it not for the on-going traffic noise, the unbelievable amount of dust in the air, the overbearing heat, or perhaps it was just that day, she would have been less hesitant.

R&R thanks.


	8. Chapter 8

"Deepest River"

Chapter 8

Amongst the dirty dust-filled crowd under the burning atmosphere of the daylight, she sighted the most familiar face upon a strange body.

Her heart jumped. Surely her eyes were not deceiving her!

The slim figure topped with auburn, near orange hair, stood by the street holding a pack of what seemed to be French pastry—brownies, she squinted— and waiting for the street light to turn green with a bored expression. That was strange, would he not have a servant fetch the sweets for him? And more importantly, why was he here? Was he escaping war, just as Kyouya and Tamaki have?

It had to be him, there was no way someone else in the world could resemble that devilish smile when amused, except perhaps, for his other equally devilish relation. And most distinguishing, the orangey hair that had turned into a striking shade of auburn over the years! She had to find out; she had not seen him for so long, talked to him for so long, and shared laughs with him since graduation.

First starting out with a quick-step, and then going into a run, she willed her legs to beat the turn of the green light. The desire to speak with him propelled every step and leap in the frail sunlight across the black and white lines.

Grabbing his hand, she stopped him from stepping off the curb. Jerking his arm, he turned around in annoyance only to find an all-too familiar face looking up at him wistfully.

"Haruhi?" he spluttered, turning around to face her in the sunlight in pure surprise.

"Kaoru, so it is you, I was right," she said while panting, trying to catch her breath. She let her hand go from his arm and placed them on her knees to support herself. She was really out of shape, to get tired so easily from a little sprint.

He stood there while she wiped away the sweat on her forehead, marveling at how much she had changed, in merely four years. She was still wearing jeans and other sorts of commoner clothes, but the remaining childhood was no longer present on her face, replaced by the complexion of a young woman in her early twenties, full of rosy exertion and cheekiness.

He remarked that her eyes have changed quite a deal too. "You're really pretty now—" still spluttering out his words, "but that shirt and jeans doesn't quite suit you."

She couldn't help but let out a snort. "Was that all you could say?"

He grinned. "No I was just joking," reasserting himself, "my, I can't believe it's you, I'd say it's been about four years since graduation. What are you doing here?" In truth he was delighted, only half-joking would be the real truth.

"It's really complicated…" She did not want to explain the terror and fatigue she had experienced in the last few days. Indeed, as she looked back, it had been enough adventure, if you could even call that adventure, for a lifetime.

It was quite apparent to him that she was not supposed to be in Paris. The torn jeans, dirty t-shirt, and messy hair were all indications that she met some trouble, and the fact that she was in Paris raised his eyebrow. No offense to Haruhi, but it was impossible for her to get to Paris without somebody's help—financial help that is.

Somebody's help, he thought to himself, who in Paris would go through all the trouble of spending an airfare for Haruhi?

But ah! Of course! It would Tamaki, that dramatic idiot who fell head over heels for her, who would do anything for her were it not for her own stubbornness. It made perfect sense, that he would choose to do so, to save Haruhi out of all people, of course, because Japan was becoming more dangerous each day as the war continued. But, here he eyed her, something must have gone wrong. Not only did she not have her luggage with her, but she was looking forlorn.

He would have to get to the bottom of this later, right now; she needed some food, clothes, and maybe even a place to stay. It would be no trouble to find Tamaki, because after all, Paris was only that big.

He brushed back his hair. "Haruhi, want to get a bite to eat? I'm kinda hungry, and I could say you look the same yourself."

She admitted to herself that she was very famished. "Sure," she replied, "but I have no money," looking around her, "nor anything left, for that matter."

"Oh please, you don't have to tell me," he grinned. This was just like the days in high school. "You can tell me how you lost all your stuff and how you got to Paris over lunch," emphasizing the word "lunch."

"Okay," she agreed hesitantly, "but nothing too expensive."

This time he snorted, resisting the urge to roll his eyes. "Right, okay, well, let's go back to my hotel, I got to drop off these brownies for Hikaru," and then he added, "he's here, you know."

As if he had to tell her that. The twins would never let each other be separated a world apart. Even though back at Ouran they always played the forbidden love card when entertaining the young ladies, of which she found equally strange that some girls should find it intoxicating, Haruhi knew that they cared for each other as much as brothers could, without incest, of course.

"How come he didn't send a maid to fetch his brownies?" she asked.

"Eh I needed a walk, and lucky for you I did, where else would you have lunch then?" he teased, "and besides, I'm just too nice for my own good."

They walked down the Parisian street on the grey sidewalk littered with scattered sunlight from the trees above their heads, catching up on four years of lost conversation. It was a gay place to be, with people here and there, never to be lonely, only to be as merry as the day would allow. The air strained wistfully under the early summer breeze.

He took out the key to the hotel room and inserted it into the shiny golden knob. The door clicked open. He led her into the room.

The room radiated in beauty, from the wallpaper, to the burgundy carpet, from the mahogany doors that led away, to the two beds with fresh sheets. She sniffed, a flowery perfume smell wafted to her nose. Ahh, she thought knowingly, the scent of wealth and fortune.

Kaoru dropped the brownies on a nightstand beside the bed. "I guess he's not here," he remarked, looking around the room. "Put the bags anywhere, go get changed and then we'll go eat, I'm starving."

She placed the shopping bags on a chair. On their way here, they passed a few clothing stores that just happened to be sophisticated for Kaoru, apparently, and he insisted that they pick up some new clothes for her. He said, no restaurant in Paris would let her in wearing jeans and a fading t-shirt. She protested, there was no way she was going owe anybody anything anymore, so instead, he took a good look at her, and walked into the store by himself, leaving her outside to wait in the street.

Half an hour later he came out with a bag, containing, according to him, dresses, for he had thought that dresses would suit her more than pants. You have the figure, he remarked with a grin. And more incredible was that he had memorized her sizes from just taking a good look at her. It was a skill that gave her the shivers.

He saw her glum expression at having been bought something again. "Don't worry," he said winking, "I'll get Tamaki to pay me back later." After having said that, a few minutes later they passed a shoe store, of which Kaoru mysteriously disappeared for another ten minutes, picking out shoes for her.

She felt down, walking into the luxurious bathroom of the hotel while Kaoru hummed to himself. Why did he say Tamaki, and not somebody else?

She took out the garments in the shopping bag, laying out the dresses on the counter. She was glad that they were not too revealing, or even worse, frilly. Picking a white sun dress that went down just enough to cover her knees; she combed her hair with the complimentary comb and tied the white ribbon that came with it to her hair.

She decided to worry about the money problem later, lunch came first right now. Daring not to spare a chance for her to take a single good look of herself in the mirror, for she was afraid of her thin, not to mention rather flat figure, she walked out of the bathroom in a quick-step.

"Let's go, I'm starving," she called to Kaoru, who was standing at the window overlooking the busy street.

"Yes, let's," he answered, proceeding to open the door for her in the manners of a true gentleman, but his eyes went astray to her body. Oh, how simply beautiful she looked then.

A sleek black limo came to pick them up, and much to his dismay, she did not seem to enjoy the leather seats and air-conditioned ride. She was not even fascinated.

"So, where is Hikaru?" she asked thoughtfully, trying to stir up a conversation.

"I'm not too sure," he replied honestly, "because I have no idea what he could do in Paris, or would do. But I'm sure he'll phone me later."

The ride did not last too long. Haruhi stepped out of the car and gasped. This was the effect Kaoru had intended for her. They were in front of the Eiffel Tower. The magnificent iron tower built beside the Seine River, one of the most well-known monuments in the world.

She breathed in steadily. She had seen an image in her old textbook in elementary school, but no one, with any amount of anticipation, could have prepared her for this!

As if right on cue, Kaoru's cell phone rang from his jacket pocket. The melody was a sweet classic love tune.

"Hello?" he asked lazily. "Ah! Hikaru, how nice of you to phone, want to eat lunch together? Hmmm…yeah, I'm heading up to Jules Verne, and oh," he eyed Haruhi, "I have a huge surprise for you, do come won't you?" with that he shut his phone and slid it back to its usual nest.

"Let's go," he said, ushering her to follow him. She followed, but hesitantly, wanting to climb the tower and see the view of all Paris from its peak first.

They rose steadily on the elevator, during which Kaoru chattered on about the tower and its famous history. She found it interesting that the tower was struck in 1902, but thought that you couldn't really blame it because it was, after all, iron.

The entered the restaurant and it was dressed in a splendor fashion. Someone came and lead them to a table beside a window, over looking the scenery below them. She took a good look at the menu and decided not to think about what to order yet. Nothing had prices on them, which frightened her quite a bit. And the fact that she knew no French…well, it was certainly a challenge with no pictures on the menu to guide her.

Kaoru looked questioningly at his menu and had an inner moral debate between having either chicken or fish. Life was always full of such harsh choices! She took the opportunity to sneak a good look at him, for she had not so yet since the time they spent in each other's company. And she was so sure he had looked at her more than once, so it was only fair for her to do the same. She had no idea why she should feel that it was embarrassing to take a look at him though, and further more confused on why she should desire to so much.

He had not grown taller since last she saw him, but height was the least distinguishing difference.

His face had given up, as if exasperatedly, the boyish teenage looks he had while at school, including the devilish sneer of arrogance, but a smug grin could still be seen if he had really wanted to sneer. It was as if he had grown out of being tricky. However, she thought, he took a turn for the better it seems. There was softness about his face that hinted at a gentle and kind personality that was not at all impossible for Kaoru, for he always was the more caring one between the twins. Which is not to say that Hikaru was not kind, but it was a different sort of kindness. Kaoru's contained more patience, whereas Hikaru's had a brusque manner.

His eyes were sharper and brighter, but his lips remained the same. He was the skinny tall Kaoru she knew. Smiling, she placed the tip of the glass of water to her lips, glancing at him with a knowingly look, indicating how much she herself did not understand just yet.

R&R.


	9. Chapter 9

"Deepest River"

Chapter 9

He walked across the pavement and garden road towards the metal tower. Sunlight streaked past his neatly-trimmed hair, but somehow his hair always found a way to be startling again. It was a quality he had. His footsteps firm, his shoulders relaxed, he ascended the elevator to the restaurant. Why did Kaoru want to meet him here? He knew his brother was not the silly romantic dramatizer Tamaki was.

Oh please, he thought sarcastically, the tower where lovers met or chanced to meet, why here and now? His mouth became twitchy. A lot of things annoyed him, very much really.

Kaoru glanced at his watch. They still had twenty minutes or so before they are to be disturbed from a nice quiet lunch as a twosome, for it was with tricky and witty timings on his part that enabled him to lure his objective here. And with such a nice dressed up young woman waiting for him too.

Ahh…where was he? Her prince-to-be…well not really, but if he did not show up soon this wouldn't go too well. No, it wouldn't, for sure it wouldn't.

This lovely being across the table, she was so pretty, how nice it was to sit with a nicely-dressed person on a nicely-weathered day. Why didn't he do this once in a while? It was so nice, just as the blue sky is nice…

Simple things were really nice, and once in a while, they really make you appreciate the once-in-a-while things in life.

"Here, we're over here," he called out at the orange-haired figure. "Come sit down, hurry!"

He walked over briskly to sit down, but stopped halfway down the chair to feel his eyes wander to the girl across fancy embroidered tablecloth. She felt his eyes on her cheeks and eyes. She smiled.

"Hello Hikaru," she said sincerely. "I haven't seen you for a long time, have I?" He looked into her shining eyes from the sunlight. He blinked awkwardly.

She never thought that she herself could see into other people, however, people always told her that her gaze was penetrating, and saw deep into others. To tell the truth, she always thought that strange, because when she looked into others' eyes, she saw only to smile. It was that simple.

"It's nice to see you again," he replied curtly. He did not smile, but his eyes stayed outside the window, right after he shot a look at Kaoru, she noted.

"Well sit down! Order something and we'll eat together," Kaoru said brightly. His brother sat down, called something off the menu she did not know to the waiter, and resumed his previous act of staring at her. She didn't feel uncomfortable, but it was very noticeable when someone's eyes are always on you. All the sudden the restaurant's noise seemed to dampen away out of earshot.

"So," Kaoru began, "how come you're in Paris?"

"I was coming to Paris," she said through a sigh, "on Tamaki's request, because apparently Japan is too dangerous to stay in anymore. I had no idea that all of you were out of country."

"He's right though, Japan's not safe anymore," Kaoru said as-a-matter-of-factly. "But I think Mori and Hunny's still in Japan, isn't that right, Hikaru?"

He didn't respond right away, still looking outside, away from the table, until Kaoru prodded his elbow for an answer.

"I dunno, how am I supposed to know? Haven't talked to them for ages." She glanced his way.

"And how come you're here without your luggage, or anything?"

"On the way over, we were intercepted by German forces, then I got separated from Kyouya, which was—"

"Kyouya?" Hikaru and Kaoru both interrupted at the same time. "What was he doing with you?" Kaoru asked. Hikaru took his eyes away from the window.

"He showed up at my door a few days ago and told me that Tamaki wanted me to come to France, and would be willing to accompany me if I chose to do so."

He raised an eyebrow. "See, that's strange."

"What's strange?"

"That Kyouya would accompany you personally, because honestly, we would not do so either, it's dangerous to travel internationally right now. It's strange because he didn't send an escort instead."

"But he came."

"And it's also strange that he didn't just send you an email or a call instead." Hikaru nodded, taking a sip of his water.

Kaoru continued, "because the thing is, even though you know how we _desperately _love you—" Haruhi snorted loudly"—we wouldn't risk our lives, personally, to just go and fetch you, and you probably know that anyways."

"Yeah," she agreed, "I've thought of this too, I was hoping you guys, or Tamaki would give me a better explanation, seeing as Kyouya never mentioned anything…('When does he ever?' Kaoru chuckled) All he said was that Tamaki was going to come himself, but he was taking care of his mother…so Kyouya came in his place instead."

"And you agreed to go, even though he didn't tell you why?"

"He did tell me why, but—"

"It seems like a lie?" Hikaru offered suddenly. She nodded curtly. Of course, it wasn't under Kyouya to lie if he had to, or even, if he simply just wanted to. Her constant doubts and hesitations towards this way of thinking of Kyouya was realized when Kaoru voiced it for her, but somehow, when he said it out loud, she felt hurt just a bit. She did not know why it bothered her.

"Let's forget it," Kaoaru offered. "You're staying with us tonight, until we can get you over to Tamaki's. And meanwhile, let's talk of other things."

She had almost blurted out 'Why can't I stay with you?' but she had enough courtesy to swallow it with a nod. She should not ask for more. They've already done enough for her.

She looked into the distance of the view of Paris under a blue sky and sighed. "None of this would have happened if they never discovered the new fuel source. Do we really need cars that bad?" Hikaru looked solemnly at her wistful face.

"It can't be helped, not with the age we live in," Kaoru answered. "We'll just have to deal with it until the war's over."

"But that could be until the fuel runs out."

"It can't be helped. When the time comes everybody will be riding bicycles instead," he added with a smile.

She grabbed the fluffy yellow towel and draped it over her shoulders, preventing her wet strands of hair from sticking onto her back. After dressing, she walked out of the steamy bathroom. She saw Hikaru lying with his eyes closed on his bed, hands spread out.

Smiling, she walked towards the other bed, which they've given her. Kaoru nor Hikaru had even joked of getting her to sleep with them, they told her she could have the bed willingly. It surprised how much they had grown and changed.

She dimmed the lamp. Kaoru had said that he would not return until late at night. She did not dry her hair, thinking that if she used the hair dryer she would wake Hikaru up. Laying her head on the pillow, she closed her eyes. The silence of the marvelous room filled her ears.

She did not want to think that Kyouya had lied to her; he had no reason to. But at that moment during lunch when the twins had speculated that there was something going on, she wondered why a brief moment of heaviness in her heart had grazed by. It shouldn't have. She heard a rustling of bed sheets.

Just like now. Even in bed, she had the urge to squeeze her eyes tightly to fall asleep faster. It was a wonder to have trouble sleeping right now, especially since she had felt so tired during daytime. Something felt peculiar. Opening her eyes, she looked to her right.

His eyes met hers'. Her eyes widened, but she smiled awkwardly, turned her head back, and pretended to close her eyes, willing herself to fall asleep, however, she felt the stare quite strongly. Come to think of it, he acted strangely at lunch today.

Why was he staring at her? She turned her head towards him.

"Why are you looking this way? Will you stop?" she whispered, "I'm trying to sleep."

He said nothing. She felt nervous under his intent gaze.

"Hikaru, what is it?" she asked louder.

"Nothing," he mumbled.

"Well, if it's nothing, will you stop staring at me? Why don't you go take a shower?" She hoped that she would fall asleep if he consented to the shower idea.

"It's just that…I haven't seen you, in a long time." She stared back. That perhaps, had been the most of anything that she had gotten out of him that day.

At lunch Kaoru did most of the talking. In the afternoon, they took her to a beautiful garden, where Hikaru said almost nothing either. But now, in the confinements of a single room in the orangey glow and silence of the night, he speaks.

But she did not smile. He laid down exasperately and closed his eyes, hoping that she could fall asleep now. His eyes stayed open until he heard the click of the door.

R&R.

Note: Kyouya doesn't know German? Don't worry, all in due time as to why I put that in there.


	10. Chapter 10

"Deepest River"

Disclaimer: I don't own Ouran Highschool Host Club (I've been neglecting this for a while)

Chapter 10

She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply, blocking out the scathing rays with her palm and she tilted her head upwards towards the blue sky. The wind capered through the atmosphere above her, and the two walking in front of her. They stepped on the neatly paved garden; stone after stone on top of faded green lushly grass. It was past their prime, these grasses, but the tree was still oily fresh. 

"What an incredible mansion, eh?" Kaoru piped up from the front. "Even in rich people standards, this is very very good."  
"Oh yes, I can tell," she said almost sarcastically, but holding back her remark, "even a commoner like me can appreciate this. But why so extravagant?"

"Wait 'til you see the inside," he winked, not really answering her question. She supposed he wanted to leave it ambiguous for her curiosity, setting her mind up for what the blow inside.

They continued upon the stone steps until the big double wooden door. It occurred to her how strange it was that they had to walk a long length along the garden paths just to reach the front door. It was only on the outskirts of Paris, could such a big private property be fitted in one piece. 

Hikaru rang the doorbell. They stood on the steps in a moment of silence without speaking while they heard the clacking steps on the other side of the butler. The sunlight gleamed off the shiny sheen-covered mahogany doors. She wondered how they could stand being surrounded by so many fine things. There were many imperfections in life. By surrounding one with fine things didn't make the other side of the spectrum go away.

"Hello," the old butler opened the doors greeted them. He smiled warmly at them. "I presume you are the young master's guests, the masters Hitachin and Ms. Fujioka? Well, please come in, I will get the young master, he is upstairs at the moment."

"Thank you," Kaoru replied curtly, motioning with his hand for Haruhi to enter first. She stepped through the wooden frame with an unsure feeling of what she thought was anticipation over nervousness. In truth, she was a bit reluctant to see Tamaki.

Again, the guilt of how much he was doing for her rose. Stepping into the two story doorway, her eyes traced the two grand staircases which led to the top second floor. She shook her head. She was sure, however, that there were more. The floor reflected with a patter of white marble tiles surrounded each by dozens of small darkened rouge tiles. The effect was classy.

They were led by the butler into a sitting room. Taking a seat on a two person couch, lined with gold thread against a turquoise background, Hikaru was beside her.

An exceptionally tall man, with surprisingly, but extremely dashing, handsome features walked into the room. She did not expect him to arrive so soon in their midst, seeing as the butler had them wait with tea and biscuits. She was caught off guard, and soon, Tamaki was in the two armed chair across from them. The room smelled as fresh as confined as the fresh flowers on the table deprived of fresh air.

"Haruhi," he greeted warmly. Thereafter nodding with a smile towards Hikaru and Kaoru, "it's great to finally see you guys. Have some tea."

"Hello Tamaki-senpai," she smiled back, taking a cup of china with both her hands.

"Hey you know what? Haruhi was complaining about how big your house is, wasn't she, Hikaru?" Kaoru piped up.

"Yeah, 'too extravagant' she says, but I suppose" he glanced at Haruhi, grinning, "she'll probably never get used to this kind of lifestyle."

"What is that supposed to mean?" she raised an eyebrows, half mocking half joking, and feeling just like she was back in high school. Somehow Tamaki could bring back that old wistful tune just with his presence, because really, now she thought about it, he was the heart of the whole Host Club. "Why would I get used to this lifestyle? I prefer what you guys call the 'commoner lifestyle.'"

"Oh really?" Tamaki laughed, "but your dress says otherwise. Did Kyouya buy you that?"

"Because," Hikaru interjected, but hesitated for a moment in the air with his thoughts, "you know very well why" he finished lamely.  
"No, Kaoru did. And I only accepted this dress because I lost everything I brought with me, and—"

She stopped, almost letting "only because Kaoru said he would get you to pay later" slip.

"Huh? You lost everything? What happened, did they lose your luggage?"

"No, our plane was intercepted in mid air by the German forces. I was taken to their base and they agreed to let me go if I helped them send a message to Japan as a hostage," she explained.

He shook his blond head and sighed. "In times of war…nothing is really safe anymore." He looked up. "But it's strange, Kyouya got out okay."

"Kyouya?" she cried in surprise. "He's okay?"

"Yes," Tamaki replied, surprised as well, "wasn't he with you?"  
"No, we got separated."

"I don't know the details, but from the sounds of it, he got out with no trouble."

"That's just Kyouya for you, smooth as ever," Kaoru remarked.

"Thank goodness," she sighed, feeling weight she never knew was there slide off her shoulders. Feeling like she could breathe deeply all of a sudden, she took a good look at Tamaki. Dressed in a polo shirt casually, he still had an appearance and air that stood out from the rest. He had left his hair the way it was years ago, prince-like, with an air of royalty to boot.

Hikaru noted this, and got up. "Anyways, we weren't planning to stay long, we gotta go," Hikaru said, placing his teacup back onto the mahogany table.

"Why are you going so soon?" But Kaoru smiled at her.

"We're going to leave you some alone time to catch up."

"See you," Tamaki said, half convinced he was just joking, but upon seeing Haruhi's slightly alarmed face he faltered.

"Yeah, see you guys, real soon, thanks for the tea" Kaoru added, silently chortling, getting up as well, walking to the door with his brother. With a brief moment the door shut, for the twins had let themselves out, leaving Haruhi alone in the room with him.

Breaking the silence, "We'll see them again tomorrow," Tamaki said, "there's a social function tomorrow night, and I was hoping you would come with me."

She took a sip of tea. "Accompany you? Won't there be lot's of high classed people there?"  
"And international diplomats too," he added cheerfully. "So come with me, it'll be alright."

She groaned, like the old days when he tried to get her involved in some high-spirited plan of his. She placed down her teacup. "Senpai, I appreciate you helping me out like this, especially in these times, but you're doing much too much for me."

"Really? But it's no big deal, I am very happy to help." He said innocently.  
"No, but," she hesitated, "it's not okay for me. I would like to pay you back in the future, when I have a job, when things are going well again."

He smiled with the air of a melancholic figure staring across the sea. "Alright, you will do that. But," he lightened up, "you must come to the social function with me tomorrow. It'll be kind of like paying me back a little of what you owe me," he added mischievously.

"Urghh what's with you guys trying to use money to get me to do things? I remember the twins offering me money if I'd go willingly to their house and model for them." She heard his immediate small laughter and sighed. Still the same Tamaki, but in ways, more mature, she supposed, resisting the urge to roll her eyes.

"Fine then, I'll go."

"Great!" He got up, "Let's get you settled down here, I'll show you your room."

They walked up the grand stair case and turned a left corner down another equally long hallway. Finally they came inside a room with the smell of bed sheets aired recently. She had the view of the front of the house from the giant window, and she ran towards it.

"Wow, what a great view!" she commented happily.

"I'm glad you like it, and there's a wardrobe there," he pointed at a wooden one on the opposite green-striped wall from the window. Against the center wall a two person bed with four wooden posters had comfy light blue sheets upon them. "And since you don't have any clothes anymore, I'll arrange for someone to take you shopping in town today."

"No wait! I can't afford that. Kaoru already bought me a few dresses, anways," she said.

"Haha...he only bought dresses for you? Don't worry, it'll be on me. At least get one for the dinner tomorrow."

"But I just told you I didn't want you paying for everything for me," she stated blandly, a little annoyed.

He sat down on the bed. "I know, but for now, I don't want you to abstain from enjoying life just because it may cost you more. I have too much money, extra things I don't need, so I want to share them with you."

She sat down beside him and sighed. "I…don't know if I should be accepting so much from you. It's just hard to get used to, this war. I should be in school and studying. And you should be...living the life of unimaginable wealth, traveling around the world, engaged to an equally wealthy person, talking business with other companies, and haha..." she laughed, "I don't know what else you guys do after you grow up."

He smiled, "well I do live a life of unimaginable wealth don't I?" gesturing with his hands around the grand room, earning a small scoff from Haruhi. "The only thing missing, according to you, would be that gorgeous rich fiancé."

"I didn't say she was gorgeous, rich, not gorgeous," she laughed. "Wouldn't going to the function tomorrow with you be a little…, well, not so good to you getting engaged? People will assume that I'm dating you, and I know about how important marriage is to you rich people."

"Well maybe, but maybe I don't want to people to constantly wonder if they'll be marrying me," he replied wistfully with good humor, "because really, I don't like them much. And as a bachelor of great wealth and power behind him…"

"Right, okay, fine, I'll go with you, as a friendly favor to keep those Éclair's off you," she replied, playing along the joke.

"Wonderful, so you'll go get an evening gown?"

"Yeah yeah," she grumbled, falling down upon the bed and closing her eyes, giving him a chance to take a good look at her face without seeming strange.

Rate & Review!

Thank you, the readers who've gone this far with me, without your support and reviews I would've stopped a long time ago.

To update, I've written the ending. It's the middle that's giving me a need to think very hard.


	11. Chapter 11

"Deepest River"

Disclaimer: I don't not own Ouran Highschool Host Club.

Chapter 11

After a couple of hours in downtown Paris in a shop she dared not to guess how much everything cost, for the shop was so high-classed that they did not see the need to point out how much each of their merchandise cost, she went back to the mansion and slept. She did not know how long she slept, just as she did not know how tired she was until her head landed on the soft pillow carelessly. She also did not know exactly how the covers were on top of her when she woke up, but she had a good guess.

Life, even if only for a day and a half, at the mansion, seemed too good during wartime. Nevertheless, the lack of bombings or even planes overhead was unreal. Even going downstairs to dine, the candelabra with white candlesticks on top of the small wooden table seemed to be from another time to her. She and Tamaki ate beside a majestic window on the western wing of the house.

And finally, the night came. She took a shower and slipped into the simple ocean blue evening gown. The colour was not too dark to resemble the storm, nor was it too light to seem unserious. She wanted people to believe that she was upper-class, for Tamaki, however she dared not to choose a more fancy dress for fear of the cost.

Imprinting her index finger in the rouge, she dabbed an insignificant amount onto her cheeks. Did she look good enough?

The door opened. Tamaki walked in sporting a splendid black suit. Upon seeing her in the long blue dress his heart skipped a beat. He skipped slightly over to the beautiful, but nervous figure in the room.

"Here," he said, handing her something delicate and shiny.

"Huh? Don't tell me you bought this," she looked disapprovingly. "It's real, isn't it?"

"Yes, and no, I didn't buy this, it's my mother's," he said happily, "so you can't say no," earning a slight smile from her. "May I?"

She nodded, and stared intently into the mirror as he placed it around the nook of her neck. His fingers were warm. The diamond pendent was beautiful upon her white skin.

"Thanks," she said, touching the gleaming many-faced pendent, slightly flushed.

"Welcome," he said softly, "now, let's go. My car is waiting downstairs." Upon reaching the staircase, he held out his hand and smiled.

Taking his hand and holding it, "you're still a host," she commented.

"And why wouldn't I be?" he said good-naturedly. "All for the beautiful ladies, right?"

"And you don't want to get married?" she asked casually, seeing the black gleaming limousine. "How many cars do you have? Kyouya came to see me with one exactly like that."

"Hmmm, I think I'll leave you with both questions to ponder to into the night," he diverted, but chuckled. "I'll just say I have enough cars to give you two of your choice, if you wanted." They got into the automobile, while Haruhi felt slightly uncomfortable with the air-conditioning so strong. She decided, she would never get used to the leather smell, or even the mini-bar, for that matter.

Flashes of the moonlight gleamed from buildings to the window of limo, so fast she didn't have time to take a second glance at what they were gleaming off of. And soon, through the brushes of wind by trees and the other colourful elegant lights, they arrived at the hotel. Stepping out, she took Tamaki's offered hand and together they walked up the steps, her heels clicking.

Going through the glass-paned doors, a fresh scent of cleaned air swept past her. A receptionist bowed to them, throwing her off, but Tamaki merely smiled and spoke to him. They walked on bright red carpet to the golden doors of the elevator. It seemed the hotel had wanted to preserve the old vintage taste of when it first opened. The elevator doors were golden fences with no actual solid barrier besides.

Up they went, only the two of them.

"Nervous?" he asked.

"Not a bit," she reflected, "just hungry."

He laughed. "Well, I doubt there's sushi here, they'd want to showcase their best French cuisine I'd expect, in case you're wondering, but then again, you never know. They might've wanted to make some sushi for their most honored guests hailing from Japan." 

"Right, and that's you?"

"Most definitely!" He said cheerfully. "How could you doubt me? Where others have felt the prestige of my family and respected it?"

She smiled. "It's because I know you're a soft idiot inside."

The elevator stopped, a serviceman on the outside unlocked the doors and waved them through with courtesy. They were on the top most floor, she was sure instinctively. Walking to the doors at the end of the hallway, they entered the ballroom.

"Look at that," she whispered; slightly breath taken by what the rich could produce for a fun time.

"Shall we?" he held out his hand, but was surprised when she swung her arm around his instead.

"We have to look like a couple, no?" she said, oblivious to the look on his face, "but don't attract attention to me."

"Well," he said smiling with a stupid look, "it'll be hard not to, there's a lot of people I have to greet tonight."

Making their way across the tall ceilinged room with sparkling glass chandeliers, Tamaki would take her slowly, occasionally pointing out who was who, what was what.

"That man," he nudged, "by the table with lilies, "he owns a chocolate company in Switzerland, very generous, if you wanted some chocolates. And that guy, over there talking with that beautiful woman in the red sparkling dress, that's the minister of foreign affairs in—"

And so it went on like that, her head keeping track of each important figure head should they venture up and come and talk to them.

"Ah, Haruhi, and that's the wife of the third generation of the soup company in—"

"Hey! Didn't think of introducing us?" a voice broke out behind them. She turned around the saw identical faces smirking back.

Hikaru bowed. "Hitachin Hikaru of Japan, madam," then Kaoru bowed, "Hitachin Kaoru also of Japan, madam. We are the runners of a cloth designing company there."

Both of them took Haruhi's right hand and landed one gentle kiss upon the tips of her fingers, "it's a pleasure to meet you."

She had to admit, the act was reminiscent of their Host Club days, but she laughed heartedly, then they moved on to their seats. Tamaki had been seated very close to the front, near the podium where a band was playing on the left. She suspected this might be because of the vast power he held and the significance of his appearance. And then she thought, being his partner here, was certainly not a thing to be taken lightly.

She stared at the table in front of her, with napkins laid out but no plates of even knives.

"Tamaki," she asked, "do they bring out the cutleries and dishes after dinner starts?"

"Yes, and you tell them exactly what you want. Right now it's still early, but they're serving wine."

He motioned his hand to a servant carrying a huge bottle of red crimson liquid, to which he poured out two sparkling glasses for him and her.

"It's okay to get drunk tonight," he added merrily, drinking the whole in one swallow, it seemed to her.  
"Mr. Suoh! That is not the way to drink champagne, so crude!" a booming voice cried in English behind them. She turned around and saw a roly poly man with a merry moustache beaming at them.

Tamaki smiled back and spoke to him in French. Afterwards, the man turned towards Haruhi in English again, "and this is your lovely wife?"

She blushed a little and shook her head.

"No, she's not my wife," he answered, "just a good friend, but—" Tamaki said something in French, to which the man laughed even more heartedly than before.

"It is good to see that the war has not gotten to you. Well have a good evening," and with that the man was gone.

"That was a good associate of mine from the United States," Tamaki supplied. "Very cheerful man, always."

"Yeah, I can tell." she said, "I was wondering,"

"Hm?"

"Is Hunny-senpai and Mori-senpai going to be here tonight?"

"I don't think so, Haruhi," he said with a more serious manner. "Their family had some branch to do with the military in Japan, and so I think they are quite busy with the war."

"Isn't that Kyouya?"

"No, Kyouya's family owns a set of secret police, but with them, it's different."

"Ah," she offered, a remark worthy of Mori-senpai's silent personality. She didn't know why, but the mention of him brought on more hunger in her stomach. It was probably the wine, she thought.

Dinner started soon afterwards, with ordering food on Haruhi's part being extremely difficult at first, but then she settled for whatever Tamaki was having. During the meal, he stole glances at her face, eyes, and lips now and then. In truth, the comment back at the elevator had hit home with him. Again, she had used her powerful honesty to her advantage, and it had worked with him, but it was unsure whether or not she herself had known the effect of the comment on him.

Ah, he sighed to himself. The crab with gorgeous red in front of him didn't taste as good as it looked.

A few people made speeches up on the podium, which Haruhi listened to as the slurring of French. She clapped with appreciation at the end of each of them.

They danced on the dance floor while the band played a soft romantic song. Haruhi supposed he had to, for it was bad to look too cold in front of all these important people, but she also supposed he himself had wanted to dance with her. The strummed base of the soft jazz ached all the way to her belly, each plucking her heartstring along.

It went very fast, she thought, when the last song was over. Guests were beginning to go to their separate rooms in the hotel. She wondered for a second how much the hotel was making from all these wealthy guests at once. Here eyes wondered with the walking people in dazzling suits and gorgeous gowns, walking to the door which led to the elevator hallway. Her eyes widened.

There was a tall dashing figure by the doorway. His black eyes were on her, but only a momentary flitting glance. They turned away as he proceeded down the red carpeted stair case without giving her another chance.

R&R thank you my readers.


	12. Chapter 12

"Deepest River"

I do not own Ouran High School Host Club.

Chapter 12 

She ran, hair flipping to and fro behind her, faster than she thought possible at that moment, a moving wave of brown. Her heels on soft carpet did not work in her favor, muting clacking it sang, but she managed to catch him before he entered his room without falling down herself. It was, with some effort on her part, that she managed to secure a ride down the elevator next to the one he rode in. Her smooth hands traced the wall as she ran, acting as support if she did trip. Why didn't she see him at dinner tonight?

"Wait! Kyouya," she called out. She breathed in heavily for air. He turned around only to glance, then continue to rummage through his pocket for the key, as if she wasn't there.

She stopped in front of him with a determined air. Her arm reached out for his sleeve. She felt herself quite daring here.

"Wait, Kyouya." He glanced momentarily. Careless to her.

"What is it, Haruhi?" he asked as he placed the key and opened the door. A cold breeze of air conditioner flew past them from inside the room, blowing his hair back slightly. "I didn't know you were coming tonight."

"Why are you here? I thought you were taken away on the boat somewhere else. How come you didn't contact me if you've gotten out of that mess?"

"Oh, well, I told them I had a fortune behind me, and I paid them when we got to a city with a bank," he said lazily, not really answering her question. "Is this going to take long? I don't want to stand in the hallway for so long, it's late. Come in and have a drink then."

She eyed him intensely. How should one start a conversation like this? "But you weren't surprised that I was here. I asked Tamaki and he said that he never told you that I was here. We were separated, how could you have known?"

"You know me better than that don't you? I have my ways. Good night," he said as he walked into the room.

"Wait! I have—"

"—more questions?" he smirked, "come in and we'll drink." She felt lured in, a strange feeling to her instincts.

She said nothing as she followed him to a little coffee table beside the full-length window with exquisite white drapery. The room was dark but the moonlight outside over the lake was enough for her to see the glint from his glasses. They always glinted when he was planning something, she noticed.

He turned on a lamp. She noticed the fine design of his collar and tie. A pale orangey glow spread through the room. Upon the white glistening wallpaper of simple lilies the glow bounced around. He gestured at a comfy cushioned chair for her, while he sat in the chair opposite her quite, his mind clearly else where. He pulled out a bottle of wine from somewhere she did not see and placed it on the table. No glasses.

"So, what is it?"

She gave him a reproaching look. She somehow had a feeling of being lured into something again, but she could not explain where this came from. It was unreasonable to think so. She stared at the into his dark pupils. "What do you mean, 'what is it'? Why do you act as if nothing happened?"  
"Because nothing has happened."

She let out a long breath; looking down at the pair of hands she had rubbed lotion upon just yesterday night. "We were intercepted by German planes, and you suddenly end up fine in Paris." 

He continued staring at her with bored eyes. "Yes, what's your point?"

"So…nothing bad happened to you right? They didn't do anything bad?"

He raised his brows, giving her a quizzical look, but one which almost laughed at her. "Why do you care so much about my well-being? Did something bad happen to you? They didn't do anything to you did they?"

"No, it was nothing like that! I was worried," she said out loud, feeling a tad bit frustrated that she had to explain the obvious. "What other reason do I need than that?"

"So you weren't …harassed, right?" he almost chuckled at her reactions.

"All that time I was at their base I thought about and wondered where you were." She had unconsciously worried about him.

His expression stayed the same as it was a moment ago. He was not fazed. "I apologize if I've troubled you." His manner was slightly colder than it was a minute ago, she felt. He turned away, standing up to face the window and said silently, "Well, I'm leaving tomorrow anyway, so you won't have to deal with me any longer."

She took a short intake of cold air. "I didn't mean it that way." Then realizing what he just said, "tomorrow, why so sudden?" She tried to grin, "I'm beginning to think that you don't like staying in the same place for too long senpai. First Japan, and now Paris?"

Turning around to face her with a smirk again, which she wished he would stop, "you can think whatever you like about me, but I have some unavoidable business to attend to in Norway."

"Is this the life of someone, of someone to inherit wealth?" she asked, eyes straight, sitting up.

He nodded curtly. "It is."

"I can tell, you would prefer not to," she stated, as if that statement could deter him. She had no idea why she said it.

"I have to, even if I don't want to," he answered, eyes still bright and alert, with a few pale shades of orange upon his face from the exquisite lamp.

"It's been so long since we've all gotten together, like the old days."

"I've stayed in contact with them," he said, pushing up his glasses, "it only feels long to you because you were isolated by yourself for a long time." After finishing his sentence he looked up. Suddenly his eyes widened a bit as a silent gap proceeded the sound of his voice, thinking that he should have watched what he said. They stepped into a moment of nothingness. He flicked his eyes quickly to her. A line crossed too far, he sensed.

She did not even notice the glance at that moment. Sighing from a tired parade, "so you knew," she said tentatively. Slowly she lowered her gaze. He guessed her sentiments. It was too obvious to him.

"No, I didn't," he said simply, noting to tread softly, and it wasn't like we ignored you. We graduated, and that was it." He got up and walked over to the table to make a cup of tea to quench his thirst. "Want one? I suppose you don't feel like a little Beaujolais?" he asked, rolling up his sleeves. The clocked tick became more pronounced.

She walked over to him in silent, bare steps. She felt calm, relaxed, but a tense agitation all the same within her that could not be expressed by body language alone. She wanted to use her louder voice, the voice that she used to use on a bright sunny day by the riverbank of near her home, the voice she used to say good bye to her friends from junior high, the same voice that she ran down the green field during childhood playing tag with, but at that moment, only a trail of half a whisper came out of her throat and lips. She heard a constant beat.

She felt her own daring rush to her head and veins. Despised, hated, scared of, but welcomed.

"And even if I wanted you to stay?"

He looked at her seriously, with youthful expression of someone with fresh appearance, one recovering from an unsuccessful attempt to throw him off his feet, but he noted the attempt nonetheless. It was as much as one could expect from Kyouya, for his long practiced expressions hardly slipped, but at that moment, she knew it as she saw his brows go up with no purpose. She wanted more. He stepped towards her, where she instinctively back away an inch.

He brought his face closer to meet her eyes. Her body wanted to instinctively slide away, an inch away for each inch he was stepping in. He was so close she could see the tiny crevices along his lips. It became very warm. Her fingers trembled. He liked how obvious she could be to him.

She blushed from the intense look, for his eyes never left hers' for a second, and he did not try to conceal it from her. However, she was determined to stare straight ahead.

Their noses were almost touching, it seemed to her. "It wouldn't matter, I have to go." She grimaced, and tried to hide how she was feeling with no escape of his eyes.

Her right hand reached out to his tie. She didn't dare blink as she leaned forward and placed her lips upon his. After a moment's pause she released herself and took his hands off her arms. Squeezing her eyes shut from the inevitable she turned around quickly and proceeded to the door, unaware of the surprise she caused.

"Good bye," she said briskly, willing herself to hold it in, ignoring the urge of her arms to rise up to her face, to wipe what should not have been there. She wanted to reprimand her own doings, dare. It was a foolish, audacious act that went with the spur of the moment affections that rose up with every moment she spent with him.

The beginnings of regret were already surging to her chest, the orangey glow became dimmer and dimmer; however, before her hands touched the cold golden doorknob, a firm touch was felt upon her left shoulder as she was spun around against her will.

"No, wait..."

Her feet were shaky, but before she had the time to stumble, a hand rose to the high of her back between her shoulder blades and another indulging in the layers of her hair. The hand was going through her hair, but that was the least of her attention's direction, for she also felt another sensation upon her own lips.

Her own daring coming back with each ongoing moment, she closed her eyes and kissed back, feeling the strangest sensation in her breast as she did so. Four years ago she would have never imagined her own doing at the moment, nor with him, for the matter.

She never imagined this scene. Opening her eyes quickly, she broke herself away from his grasp. He would not permit it, his hands held on.

"Wait, Kyouya, what are you—" trying to speak without seeming startled, but was unsuccessful as his hands were on her again, feeling fear crawl from his hands to her.

"Don't speak," he hushed her. "I wished I'd known earlier…" trailing off.

She pondered at what he just said. It was strange, completely out of sync, but so were the caresses upon her throat. She let herself exhale.

She almost said, wanted to ask softly, before his lips trailed to her neck, an important question. Her words slurred and were softened by the sensations upon her skin. Closing her eyes, she gave in to her feminine instincts and wants and the lovely feeling of suffocation upon her heart as it bleated with excitement from every moment with him, every touch. She felt a wonderful recklessness.

By the dimming lamp light from the bed side table, they kissed. Her head fell onto the white sheets with his hand cradling the back, another's fingers touching her left cheek. She looked on with tenderness and fear, the blend of affection truly resonating inside her. She could not shake the fear away, and never the joy either.

Taking off his glasses, he felt the warmth beneath him and smiled as the glasses glinted on the table.

"Senpai…" she whispered, touching the bump upon his throat, trailing her nails gently one after the other to his collar bone, then down. Her fingers were small and thin compared to his. She felt his fingers proceed to the zipper on her side that ran down to her thighs. A warm shiver went up her whole.

Surely this was a colorless dream, she thought, opaque; unreal, this moment. It felt beautiful, but it was incongruent to the reality she usual knew, so it was not beautiful but ugly in a strange sense. It was not something that would –that could—survive in the war, but here she was, overflowing with the single utmost light-feathered feeling under the bask of the orangey glow at night. Somehow, the sheets underneath her felt softer than they did a moment ago. It was not a dream, she concluded, it was something, a myriad, of unknown things to her.

"You've done this before," she said with a small grin.

"And so have you," he remarked slyly back, his sound muffled within the folds of her dress. "I'd never believe it of you."

Closing her eyes, she whispered to his ear. "I wouldn't have believed it either, believe me. And I didn't drink the wine because you never offered it to me in glasses."

R&R. Thanks.


	13. Chapter 13

"Deepest River"

Chapter 13

It seems the trend for young woman having gone to sleep in a romantic manner to wake up without the presence of the one who inflicted such feelings upon their dear hearts. For her that morning, it was no exception, except to say that only a note—in his view—seemed to suffice as the momentary substitute for his person.

However, having woken up with the covers sliding off her back, head nudged in pillow uncomfortably, she felt a small hint of resentment, quickly glided over, though, by her strong attachment to the scent of a former figure beside her, but nevertheless annoyed at having woken up bare naked.

The vulgarity of the word, she shuddered at, for waking up in the early morning light, without the blemishes unseen at night, was very much disturbing to her mind. She felt too exposed all over.

But then, as she walked over to the chair and picked up the dress she had worn, sliding it on gently, her present predicament, she thought, greatly resembled that of a lost girl in Europe, where so many romantic dramas were made of in the early days before. Her lips let out a small sigh. It was thus to be endured, just as his thoughtfulness to place her dress onto the chair instead of leaving it on the floor had to be endured in order for her to continue the present train of attitude. How did she end up held most intimately by an old school…

Acquaintance? She trailed off, or was it friend, but after this night…it can't be said. She eyed herself in a mirror in the corner of the room. Now awake, a subtle sense of faint despise surprised her. It is inevitable to have, to be left alone on clear-skied morning after such a night.

She sighed on the veranda, a girl.

* * *

"Sir? Where off to?" The young driver dressed in clean uniform asked the Asian foreigner, Japanese, by the looks of it, who carried very little luggage and a leather briefcase.

"The train station please," the black-haired young man replied in accented French courteously.

The sleek black car started and off they went, meeting little traffic on the roads. The driver was very smart as to which road to pick on that specific time. As they drove along side a curb to the right, the driver could not stand the silence any longer.

"Ahh, so you know, they say that they are going to start bombing the cities?"

"Yes, I have heard that from my sources. They say it is possible that Paris will be a target among many in other countries, because it is so populated."

The driver was a little alarmed, but kept his eyes to the road. "When, do you know? It will be good to inform others, especially fellow drivers, no?" He teased.  
He smiled. "I am not sure, but I have heard it is to be the equinox in spring, or so forth on another day close to that day."

"My goodness! This is terrible."

"Yes, that is why I am certain not to stay in this country for long," he replied chuckling, pushing up his glasses as they crossed a bridge.

The driver sighed. "Ah, this terrible war, and it is all humans' fault."

"Hm…" he nodded thoughtfully. "Were it not for the past century of industrialization and markets, but, I myself am guilty of such crimes. I am a businessman."

"I see, and how many atomic bombs have they let off in the poles?"

"I'd say about four already, but you never know? The news is not reliable these days."  
"Ha! Whichever government is not afraid to publish the truth, I will be there one day—in one day, I mean. If we had all known the truth from the beginning of the crisis, surely we would have been more careful. I know I would have, most definitely."

The drive continued on, rain began to drip drop onto the window pane, beyond of which, was none but black. After a moment's excursion into their own thoughts on both side's part…

"So…how many atomic bombs have you let off, Mr. Businessman?"

He grinned sadly for a second, adjusting his glasses from lack of control over an old habit. "Aren't you a sharp one… but I have no such enormous crimes next to my name."

The cab driver scoffed softly, pitying his client. And what a name it is, of course he knew who the disturbed looking soul reflected on his rearview mirror was.

* * *

"Won't you come with me by train? Think of all the scenery you'll see!" He piped up during breakfast.

She felt slightly dejected. "I am not sure I…can afford it," she replied, sighing, avoiding "I am not sure if I want to."

He sighed. He saw something wrong with her. Over the night, her subdued rosy spirit at his house was replaced by a blacker demeanor. He didn't know what it was, but the dark circles under her eyes indicated that she was having a bad start to a beautiful sunny morning.

"Alright, let's review your options here." Rational thinking must convince her. "If you stay here, and I'm--over there," he pointed to the horizon in the direction of Copenhagen, "you're actually further away from your current source of money," here he pointed at himself with a feinted shrug, "and if I have to wire money here to fund your living arrangements, think of the extra few bills I'll lose in transactions fees alone, let aside hiring three maids and four guards to protect you from this...war. If you're with me, at least you'll save me extra guard and maid fees."

She rolled her eyes. "Transaction fees? The best you could come up with was 'transaction fees'?"

"I have twenty guards with me," he urged with a smile.

"Fine, I guess I have no choice, I am the guest here."

"Exactly! Now then, I have your bags already packed for this trip."

"How'd you already know I'd go?" she asked, raising her eyebrows.

"I knew you would come," he replied with a grin. A spur of cool air brushed up her legs.

"That's what Kyouya said, exactly what he said."

"Oh?" he readjusted his tie. "I wonder what business he's up to currently. So busy, I didn't even have a good talk with him last night at the dinner."

She laughed uneasily. "Well, you know, that's just Kyouya-senpai right? Overwork is normal for him."

"Yeah," he agreed, "it's like he _wants_ to overwork himself, doesn't it? I mean, even after his father agreed to give him exactly one-third of their cooporation, no more, no less."

Their conversation carried them to the musty train station, musty and draped with a layer of morning residue this early. Normally the sunshine would have baked the moisture off around this time of day, but today was a cooler day. They climbed into the first-class coach. She sat slowly down into the cushioned armed chair, flipping her hair to free them from the nooks made by her neck and blouse. The compartment had a scent of newly furnished wood.

"Wow, I can't believe we're inside a _train,_" she stated in amazement at the interior, placing a finger on the clear window pane, testing, for want of tangible proof, if it was actually there. The window was just too clean to be true, but then she thought herself silly for having thought otherwise.

"Is this not what commoners have?" he asked innocently, but then laughed, "I'm half-kidding," seeing the look on her face, "I learned a few things about normal people since. For example, how they would love to have washrooms such as these...gold rimmed sinks, bronze plated faucets, complementary toiletries, indoor showering facility…quite normal for us, actually. "

"This is really going to blow my mind," she said sarcastically.

The engine started, and their journey to Copenhagen commenced. Tamaki was right: the green scenery really was beautiful and startling to her eyes. Her world was being opened beyond the scope of what had not been possible before in Japan. The light airy mood was good for the lungs.

AN; I'm back, after what I believe to be more than a year(?). It's been long. R&R all folks!


	14. Chapter 14

"Deepest River"

Chapter 14

A cry of a seagull greeted her as she stepped into the sunlight across the worn-out pavement. The city smelled of liveliness, and the port scented with timeless traditions. She turned her head left for a glance at the majestic liners, then to her right, only to be caught up by his eyes which told her how excited he was about this trip too.

"It's a good day out," she stated happily.

He nodded brightly. "Let's go. We can see the view of the whole port on the deck." They assumed walking.

Her eyes still on the metal brigs, "So why are we going to Norway? I thought it was safer in Paris."

"I have business there, and I thought it would be good if you could come too."

Good. The problem was that his eyes did not reflect the same small magnitude of excitement that the four measly letters expressed. "What language do they speak there?"

"Languages," he corrected, "and I believe two of which of Finnish and Norwegian. I'm not sure about the rest."

"Tsk tsk," she said dully, "it wouldn't be any good if you offended your business partners with your lack of knowledge for their country."

"Who would've thought that the scholarship student," he emphasized on the latter two words, "would have to ask me what languages Norway spoke."

"Well, I thought maybe German, but I wasn't sure."

"No, and anyways, if they did I would be screwed. I don't speak German. I learned a little Finnish over the years, but German, no, only Kyouya can."

She glanced up. However, as she opened her mouth slightly for a wrenched out response, saturated with extreme curiosity, a large flying object swifted over their heads and landed through the deck of the ship they were heading towards. An enormous explosion followed. A hand on her head pushed her to the ground to avoid her of the after blast debris shooting off to the little stores surrounding the port, igniting some on fire.

Her head was saved, alright, but the clean atmosphere became shrouded by an overbearing layer of fright. Screams met their match in the airs.

"We have to make a run for the bomb shelter!" Tamaki's guide shouted two feet away, also on the ground with his hands covering his head. "The ship is destroyed!"

"Show us the way!" Tamaki shouted back, trying very hard to be heard over the noise, now added to by the sound of roaring jet engines.

Haruhi was slightly aware of what was going on, but the spurring pull on her left wrist snapped her away from confusion completely. She willed her legs to run and keep up with the powerful hand that was tugging her on urgently. She dared herself not to let out a croaky cry. This was not the time.

The guide led the way. Loyal to his client, he kept with Tamaki and Haruhi's speed even though they each had a luggage back in their hands. The three pairs of legs wounded through streets and markets with fruits scattered on the ground, wrappers askew. At one point, she slowed hesitantly, her eyes on a small boy hiding in a cleft between wagons. His hand told her that it was not the time to stop, so she ran on, eyes lingering on the boys' for a moment longer before they turned a corner. Up in the sky, a large empowering craft hovered ominously, a simple red symbol on its underbelly, one she recognized...

They darted beyond a gated garden of orange walls quickly, and another turn brought them to the entrance to an underground metro.

"A sub-way?" she managed between gasped breaths. She had not realized how long they'd been sprinting. It had not seemed like a lot while they were on the go, but now hefty exhaustion caught up to her most vehemently. Down the stairs they stepped, adrenaline cueing their sense not to slip, not now.

The subway station was surprisingly clean, but dark in lighting. Some of the explosion had knocked out some of the systems of electricity. She stepped over the dropped flyers carefully. The ran down the station, then onto the tracks, stepping over the powered-off tracks. Continuing on the tracks for a few minutes in silence, the guide stopped at a side door. He rapped the dirty metal surface three times hurriedly.

"There are already people in it, I expect," he explained in ragged breathing.

The small, elevated metal door opened with a hiss. A small light escaped the creak. The hinge was encrusted with a layer of rust. As it swung open, a group of civilians, some in jeans, a woman or two in light dresses, were huddled.

The guide spoke something she did not understand. A man answered something with a disapproving look upon his face, but concluded with a grim nod.

The guide turned his head towards Tamaki. "They say we can hide with them."

Tamaki turned and nodded gratefully at the man, in thanks. The three of them clambered in, sat down against a damp wall, and watched the door close on them.

The bomb shelter did not look securely built from the inside. She questioned the cracks and drips of water that seemed to come from nowhere above them, and the few light bulbs were only reminded her of how little light they had with them here. Her palm grazed the cold floor softly, trying to take in the feeling. She took a good look around her as she did so.

"Who was it that bombed us?" she asked quietly, so that it was only audible to them three, she hoped; however, two immediately gave them a lazy, but nervous glance.

"The AGA, I suspect," Tamaki whispered back. "I received news of them planning to attack Europe in the north around this week or so."

"But what are the chances?" The guide asked sarcastically. "What horrible luck we have. The sources suggested Spain..."

"Why are they attacking the European Northern Union?" she asked. "I hadn't realized that they were on bad terms, _this_ bad. Didn't they reach a sharing agreement for the well in the south?" She blinked a few times, eyes fatigued by the low lights.

"No, that was just a fake on the AGA's part. That was just so they could get the Europeans to trust them. They were running out of oil for themselves, so the agreement was supposed to help what little supply they had left thrive just a little longer, but once they got a hold on the locations of the other European sources in the south, they wanted more...I think...that's what happened."

"Speaking of which," the guide said slowly now, glancing around quickly, "I'm fine, I look Danish enough, but you guys are fully-blown, absolutely Asian-looking." He nodded towards the several faces staring at them now. Sure enough, she saw a young girl look at them with slight distrust.

"Surely they don't think we're with the AGA," she whispered, a little nervous. The Alliance of Greater Asia, which, contradicting the nature of the name, did not include Japan.

"No," replied Tamaki calmly, "the man let us in. I think he trusts us."

She held her ankle, not entirely convinced. "I sure hope so."

Perhaps a few hours passed in the cramped space. There has to be a tube connecting us to the outside, she thought blandly, but the air is still incredibly stale. Her stomach was uncomfortable as the minutes wagged away. Some people fell asleep.

"Haruhi," he whispered, "I can't believe I haven't asked you this yet, but was there something in particular you wanted to see in Europe?"

She was a little taken aback, but she grinned as she rested her head against the hard surface. "The famous ones, I suppose. The Tower of Pisa, the Berlin Wall, and of course, the Eiffel Tower. One has to see the tower if they ever get the chance to travel to Europe."

"Ahh...yes, the tower. It's magnificent, isn't it?" he mused.

"Yes, and once I saw a postcard of it, against a perfectly blue sky, and in front of the tower was a field of purple flowers-violets maybe, I'm not sure, but yes, that is beautiful..."

"Well, one day, we can go see it," he said cheerfully, but a bit subdued by the atmosphere within.

She nodded sleepily in response. In truth, she had not realized that she was exhausted. Everything had just happened so fast.

A few bombs impacted upon the soil above their heads, but the sounds were only tremors to the softness of the earlobes, like a warm echo. The spot on the ground where she curled peacefully supported her gingerly, aided by the jacket placed tenderly upon her shoulders.

There she walked, step after step; a day with grass so green it was oily-if that even made sense at all. Her flat slippers tapped away on the pavement, announcing the silence of the streets on the unusually warm day. Movements were slow. Dried mildew on windows, caked with dust. Unusually soft currents of air brushed the tips of her fingers. She could almost see the heat waves. The hold of the straw basket was still cool. She walked away from the public pool of the neighborhood, hair still damp.

There had been a snow cone vendor down the corner, past the lamp. Across from the bakery, she recalled. They had a sale of bread not sold yesterday, it was cheap, and she had planned to buy a few of their locally famous sweet buns for dinner. Her father liked those.

The store had only a few customers during that afternoon. She did not notice that an old classmate was speaking to her until they tapped her arms in annoyance. She was phasing out; something unbearable was coming, she felt. It was unexplainable and intangible, though, this feeling, whatever it was. She almost dropped a bun from the metallic tongs she used. The edge of her mouth was tensed, she noticed.

She handed the cashier, who looked her up and down and smiled behind spectacles, the white summer dress she wore that day. A few bills were exchanged. The wall had a poster of a famous culinary arts school in France, with only three pins, one missing corner.

As her left foot stepped outside the air-conditioned store onto the heated dry doormat, she stopped and looked to her right. A quiet whirl of sirens traveled to her ears.

That was the day...that was the day the war was announced on T.V. Not that it hadn't before, in international news, but that was the day Japan went in, fully loaded, they said, with determination, but not necessarily with arms. We would be better off putting our money to inventing solar cars, they said. Soon the national bottle drives began.

Her head laid on the cool surface of the tatami mats that night, trying to think with less avail than she would've liked. It was a strange notion, this war. Being thousands of miles away from the front, the melancholy of the whole business still had the nerves to reach her mind with the utmost resilience. It came in waves, a bit sadness in the lonely mealtimes she spent once her father left, and a far larger tide, such as the day she packed and left her city apartment for a country home. The night was dark and fresh of air.

She became conscious of the concrete beneath her cheeks, and the feeling the cool slab produced on her eyes. Two small drops streamed down the cheeks. Oh, where are you two?

Where did you go? I left the city, I know, but why were we separated? I didn't want to; you know...I want you, all of you... lost in the airs of siren noises, layer upon layer. If she gave in, it would bring about great sadness. Weeping was for the one summer night under the moon only, deranged, and on other days, it is not affordable.

"Yes, she's asleep," a silent voice murmured. So then, don't wake me up.

"Well, do so, if you want to leave." Can't blame me for being cynical, now, you people, quit annoying me...

"Well Haruhi," he had once said to her, eye to eye, "if you want to go somewhere, naturally you'll have to get up and do so yourself. The annoyance is inevitable, cure it yourself." Yes, and that was what had made her decide-in a mind's debate-to follow the man with spectacles out into Europe.

A gentle arm shook her shoulders. Her eyes aroused.

"Wake up," the voice said softly. "Get up." The double command she responded to immediately, eyes urgent.

"What is it?" she asked, staring into Tamaki's face. Her cheeks red from pressing it against the floor.

"I paid the man there," he nodded towards a bearded man, a father, "he'll let you go with them on a wagon stationed in one of the subway entrances. They'll take you away to a safe location."

"They were planning to smuggle people out?"

"Yes, because there is little food in this shelter. They were timing four hours in here before they would start leaving in groups. Best be out as fast as possible. Unfortunately, the bombing is still going on..."

A little something he said sunk in at that moment. "Tamaki-senpai, you're coming with me, right?"

He hesitated, "no, there isn't enough room. I had to pay a hefty price for your space, so you're going. It'll be an uncomfortable journey, but it's better than here at the moment."

"But what about you?" she demanded.

"I'll stay with the guide here until the next wagon is here. There are rounds, you see, and naturally, we'll buy our way out too." Where was his brilliant smile?

She stared sternly back at him, to match the subtle ferocity he was emanating on the matter. Separation, her lips hard, was the word he had so meticulously left out. The cold word had the ability to tread upon both of them.

The man with a beard was out the door, which had reopened during their conversing. He held out his arms to steady the two daughters and a son as they stepped out. A few elder women did so too, and a few couples. The bearded man stuck his head back in and motioned at Tamaki. He held her hands and pulled her towards the metal door.

"Go," he said firmly. She noticed that he did not say anything along the lines of 'I'll be fine.' She did not want to go into the unknown with these citizens, who, despite looking the worse for wear, had a look of determination upon their faces.

Her feet were on the platform, they were waiting for her to leave with them, about to embark on a walk for miles underground, knowing not when a bomb should hit. They were quite vulnerable in these circumstances.

"No," she said hastily and angrily, "you're coming with me." She pulled on his hands, a moment of selfishness perhaps, but nevertheless with a warm possibility that he might go with her.

A woman groaned behind her on the platform, each second out of the shelter was another second filled with possibilities of danger.

He freed his hand gruffly. "I'm staying." It was hard resisting the worried look she wore.

The woman behind them talked to the bearded man, and then walked towards the door, where Haruhi and Tamaki were pulling each other.

"You," she said impatiently, pointed at Tamaki, who was taken aback, "come with us. A woman should not be without her man. Pay us later, go now."

He looked at the group on the platform and saw their eager faces to leave, only realizing at that second what a stereotypical couple he and Haruhi must have seemed like to them. He jumped down from the dirty door, saying nothing, and together, the group started at a light jog down the dark tunnel, his hands still on hers'.

AN: And so, another update, within two weeks? or was it one week? I don't know. And as to the meaning of the title, wait and find out? huh? I admit, it was itchy, not literally, not writing and continuing this story. It's already 78 pages on one word document, so what the heck, I'm continuing this fic.

Usually I don't answer the comments in reviews on the page publicly, but I will do so for this one, because it might answer future inquiries from others. I thought it was a really good question. To _Fab5-Blondie_: Ah yes, the treaty; however, the story does take place somewhere in the future, and in an international war crisis, Japan broke the rules, and so did the US, and alot of other countries too, in fact chuckles For the story, we will also assume that there are tensions for nuclear warfare again. This is all going on in my mind.

Please feel free to ask further questions, which also helps me catch incongruencies within my story! I leave you faithful readers for now as I work on the next chapter...


	15. Chapter 15

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran Highschool Host club

"Deepest River"

Chapter 15

Silence echoed in the breeze. She glance back a moment to the fir she passed a moment ago. Parts of the fir were green, and other willowing branches, yellow. The glow of the setting sun illuminated the shadows of folds on her back.

Her hair was long now. Many months, it seemed, had passed, and with each day it rained, her spirits were dampened drop by drop. She flipped her head back again.

Another hesitation and it would be gone. Many months had passed for sure, she thought. Tamaki-senpai was not with her anymore. An explosion in the distance rumbled, shaking the trees upon the small mountain. She hurried her pace. Ahead, she saw a group of women with the same colours as her.

"Can you drive this truck to the next stop?" the nurse covered in red in front asked her urgently.

She nodded, and climbed into the driver's seat immediately with no hesitation. Driving in the rain at night was going to be a nuisance, she thought. She motioned out the window to her friend. It was understood; the middle-aged woman quickly brought out both their living supplies, jackets, and walked briskly to the truck. It was certainly going to be cold at night.

A groan issued from the back. Haruhi suddenly realized the existence of an all-consuming stench, made up of bandages that needed changing and wet dabbers; however, she dared not turn her head back. It was traumatic for those who lost a limb, but it might be even more traumatic should she learn later that the soldier died because she was not able to deliver him to the camp hospital fast enough.

Another bomb was detonated. They sped off into the night.

"Fujioka-san," Akari-san was always very polite, being a Japanese woman raised by traditional standards, "I must say, you are getting on in the months."

She let out a sigh. "I know…"

"When?"

The simple conversation was enough to stir up the thoughts she tried so hard to repress. It was hard to believe that the baby didn't just spill out of her, with the amount of energy she was spending, with the lack of sleep she was pulling. Even as she drove, her tongue felt too dry.

"I think, perhaps seven more months."

"You should not be working on the field, Fujioka-san. Surely, they can let you go."

"How can they? I'm the enemy."  
"Yes, I know this very well…" and nothing more was said.

--

A stream of sunlight trickled past her eyelids. She brushed off the thin polyester blanket and up righted herself on the tea-stained cot. She had decided again, overnight, similar to the last many nights that she would not be smitten with him anymore. Her eyes seemed to cast a light grey on everything she saw.

She groaned and rubbed her eyes. It was hard to see from the hunger. The army was not due to give her some rations. She did not belong in this army.

Terada-san walked in, blinding Haruhi for a brief moment as the door of the crowded cabin opened.

"Fujioka-san, I would like to speak with you," and subsequently left the cabin. Haruhi grumbled off the cot slowly, careful with herself, softly treading her shoe across the dry dirt floor.

She placed her right hand by her brow to shield her eyes from the light, "What is it, Terada-san?"

"Akari-san has informed me of your circumstances, and I won't ask more regarding the baby," he said quickly, and after seeing the look on the young woman's face, he added, "she was very worried for you."

"I told her not to say anything," she replied resignedly. She felt a small bit of shame as she realized that Terada-san must have thought her sleeping with one of the soldiers or work people traveling in their group.

"But she was right to do so. I am going to plead for your leave on your behalf with them. You're a good help to them now, free labour, but months from now, when your physique gets bigger, they wouldn't want to have to have a pregnant woman burdening them."

"They wouldn't shoot me for that, would they?"

"No, they are not as cruel as that," he looked hesitant, "but that doesn't mean they won't do anything else either. By the looks of things, you do want to keep the baby, don't you? Because you see, rather than shooting you, they could just get you to abort."

Haruhi did not know at that moment precisely how to respond. She never gave what was growing in womb much thought, let alone the morning sickness she had. And she too, weeks ago realized her passive behavior and indifference, but she could not explain nor cure the cause of her blank mind.

"Here," Terada-san made a quick gesture for her hands, and pressed a folded piece of dirtied handkerchief in them. He whispered now. "Instructions and a paper excusing you for two nights. Ride into the nearest city with the hospital and then walk to the small town indicated here. They won't track you this way."

She was dumbfounded; there was no way that she could take this fortune away from him, Terada-san, who had three children of his own.

"Terada-san, I cannot, this does not belong to me, and it is you—"

"Fujioka-san," he said with determination, "you must do this quickly and inconspicuously, before they realized that the papers are forged. Do not attract their attention, just pass by the guards."

Before she could respond, the bearded Terada-san walked off casually away from her, with none so much as another grimace. Later that afternoon in an outhouse, when she dared to take the handkerchief from beneath her shirts, she saw a fat envelope amongst the forged papers, with the address already written addressed to the Terada house in Japan. She would make sure that it was delivered right away when she passes a post-office.

--

Tamaki and she had escaped the bombing by the harbour. He had brought her to another lord's villa in the densely wooded countryside. She would be safe there.

He had to leave for three nights. In exchange for her stay at the lord's villa for free, it was arranged that she would take care and teach the children what she knew, for it was hard to find a private tutor these days willing to travel all the way to the country. Most people had relocated to somewhere where they believed to be safer, but was in fact, in most cases, posed the same dangers as elsewhere.

It was fun with the children, and the lord treated her well, often inviting her downstairs for the parties he sometimes threw for political reasons.

And often, when Tamaki was there, she had quite an enjoyable time. The lord had lent her books to read, and she often heard Tamaki playing the piano in the drawing room. Even though Tamaki did not say it, she knew that he was paying the lord some sum of money she didn't think she'd want to find out about, to let him and her stay there.

The villa was grand and enormous; however, it had not enough rooms to supply each person with their own separate living quarters. Other wealthy people came because they had heard that this part of the country was safe for now, and therefore asked to be boarded in the same villa.

Tamaki and her slept in the same room each night, on the same bed, in fact. She had her doubts at first about being able to sleep on the same mattress with someone as eccentric and energetic as him, but for all their nights together, not once had he bothered her after their farewells to each other for dreams and solid rest.

There she stayed for maybe three weeks, or a month was it, that had passed. Time did not stride in the same manner during the war, it seemed. Therefore, she made no effort to keep track.

And perhaps, this was why she lost track of other things that grew progressively. The marker event that she used to divide up the days she spent in the villa was one particular night. It was a grand ball that the lord held, with many limousines, if it was possible, driving to the great stone entrance.

She wore a gown, she thought back, with a purple flower from the gardens pinned by Tamaki himself, in her hair.

Haruhi stepped out of the ballroom and onto the wooden deck. The air was chilly, but she did not want to stay in there anymore, where the festivity was. All the talk and wine names she could not understand was hard to bear. She closed the small glass door which resembled a big window of which she came through and sat down on the deck. She stared at the moon. It was a lovely night.

Just then, she heard the click of the door behind her as someone came out. She did not look back but soon realized who it was. The tall blond figure sat down on her right.

"Looking at the moon?" he asked, try to sound absently.

"Yes, it's very beautiful tonight," she answered, still staring at the yellow moon with her eyes, not letting them wander. Tamaki closed his eyes and smiled. She saw nature in a different light than others seem to do. The world was more beautiful that way, but if only more people could see it that particular way.

"Aren't you cold? It's warmer inside." He made the suggestion of going in lightly.

"No…" she said softly, "it's nicer out here," but he saw her shiver. He did not blame her for wanting to get away.

"In that case," he said while taking off his jacket and placing it gently on her shoulders, "let me lend you my jacket."

She wrapped herself in it, blushing a bit. The sophisticated fabric was unfamiliar to her bare skin, but it was soothing. The jacket was still warm. Tamaki saw that her pale blue dress was not going to keep her warm.

"Thanks," she replied with a smile, leaning against his shoulder. She was tired from this night. Tamaki's eyes widened, not sure, hesitating to put his arm around her. It had seemed like the obvious thing to do.

He was alarmed, though he did not show it. Back in his Host Club days he would automatically place his arms of said girl and talk gingerly to them, but that seemed cheap compared to now. Even though the scene was perfect and picturesque, he had never felt a warm shiver inside himself like this, something that had been inside him for a long time. Looking at Haruhi, he felt good inside. He thought what she was wearing now made her look more beautiful than before, with the hem of the dress slightly brushing against his ankles. The colour brought out her tone. His eyes wandered unconsciously to her face, pale from the cold, but with a slight pinch of pink near the middle of her cheeks. It was hard to resist the white skin, the gentle caress her side nudged to his shoulder, and the unbelievable urge to hold her close to him.

He did not put his arms around her. Haruhi was someone else, so instead, he leaned back with a little nudge. An unfamiliar feeling filled the air.

"Haruhi," he whispered, "I want to tell you something." The night was very quiet, with only the pond water whistling, teasing the silence.

"Hmmm?" she said as she opened her eyes, looking at him. She became slightly curious when she saw Tamaki's eyes looking away. He usually spotted her head on with an ecstatic attitude. "What is it?" On her right side, she could feel him right next to her, pressing against her whole side gently. It was comforting in the chilly air.

His eyes met her eyes, stirring an uncomfortable feeling in her.

"I've fallen for you, I think-- I've fallen in love with you."

R&R thank you!


	16. Chapter 16

Disclaimer: I do not own Ouran Highschool Host club

"Deepest River"

Chapter 16

She took a breath in silence with her eyes. She could not believe what she just heard. It must have been something else. His voice was quiet but he said it firmly; it burned her eyes. The over-confident Tamaki she knew was not present now. It was as if he was afraid of tipping over a full glass of water. But why should he? She never thought the wild eccentric him to be his constant mood.

"Haruhi," he said again gently, "this is how I've felt for a long time." He could see that she was very surprised, and waited. He did not care if she did not love him, or even liked him at all. It was most unbearable to keep happy thoughts, passion, desire and love for oneself. He had the feel of a melancholic individual. He would have it out, have what he wanted to say for so long, the words were buried, the thoughts in his heart, as long as she would hear him.

"Tamaki? Wait,"

"I've liked you for quite some time" he said slowly, staring into her eyes genuinely, "but I don't think you've noticed," here he chuckled a bit.

"No-" she said appalled, trying to grab the right words. She had played with the thought of Tamaki being in love with her, yes, but it was dismissed immediately as a stupid frivolous idea. She could never love him, as he would never love her! Just as age-old mountains could never touch each other, just as there were rivers too big to cross, he cannot love her. She would never imagine that someone from a different society could love her, someone so rich, someone so grand and apart, but then again, they were friends. What was there to mind?

"No, it's fine, I don't mind, because the joy in myself is enough. I have been fortunate enough to spend time with you, experience so many things with you, even in the hardships of war time, and I am happy with that. I feel very lucky and fortunate."

"But senpai-"

"No, please let me finish," he looked at her solemnly, taking a deep breath. Seeing the wanting in his eyes and passion that he wanted to express, she agreed to let him finish. It took all of her energy, but this sort of situation demanded respect. And of course, why shouldn't it? He was doing something very hard, and she was constantly interrupting him.

"I've missed you so much these past few years. Seeing you again is something I don't deserve. Some nights I've woken up and thought it would be impossible."

He picked up her left hand and slowly brought it up to his face. She blushed as he kissed the backside of her hand with the tip of his lips. The sensation echoed inside her. He said nothing as he lifted her right hand, and clasped it with her left. Haruhi was blushing so much she could not stand to look at him. She _would_ not look at him. His hands were quite big compared to hers, and they were smooth from lack of house chores.

"Loving you isn't enough, Haruhi," he said. "I want more. Friendship, or whatever it is we have right now, does not, and won't ever satisfy me enough."

Her mind was overwhelmed. She tried to focus on something else, but nothing came to mind except for the constant echo of "won't ever satisfy" which twirled in her head. Her chest felt light as a gentle breeze came. The moon was still over head. How could she possibly answer to the demands of such affection, such longing, without injuring both him and her?

She could not avoid his eyes anymore. They were full of pure passion, flaring, and she knew she had to keep away from them, all her instinct told her so. All her focus came to her hands. She tried to move, blink, or even say something, but she was still heart struck.

His eyes dwelled deep into her.

"I want your love. Will you marry me someday?"

The words freed her mind amongst the quiet silence of the night. The palm that held her mind was released, but she simply could not believe it. It was impossible. It simply could not be. Her mind paused for what seemed for a long time. It was all too much to take in. It was all just too much.

She looked at him. His expression was full of sincerity and honesty. He would not take his eyes off her and she felt a source of intimidation to be the center of attention of someone like this. How could he fall in love with her? Loving someone took quite some while, and to realize one's love was another great feat. Yesterday he was a friend who brought her out and gave her a new chance at life, but tonight, he was a man who wanted her and nothing else. Loving someone did not happen over night, nor over a week. She reasoned. If they were apart for the past two years, then he was telling the truth. He had loved her since Ouran, it had just taken him some time to realize.

The night remained quiet. People inside did not come out.

She slipped her hands away from his palm and placed them on her lap, peering at the moon, then back at him. A red tinge filled her cheeks. The tone of his voice was one determined, but solemn at the same time. He wanted his whole life with her, and she felt like she was being swept off her feet. They had hardly spoken this seriously before about themselves, always about some other matter.

"Senpai-" still calling him what she used to call him in high school, "I don't know what to say. I don't know if I have something to offer you-in that way." She turned away; she could not believe what she was saying. "It's just...you want me to be your wife?"

"You would make me very happy," he said, smiling sadly, looking at the moon. She turned to look at him. A drop of tear left her eyes. He felt troubled. He had not intended for her to cry.

"Close your eyes," he whispered. He leaned forwards and stroked the tears off. She blushed as they came in contact, retracting her head backwards slightly, but was stopped by the hand behind her head, holding her face in place. She was not used to his touch and shivered with the sensation.

"You don't have to decide now; I'll wait."

She turned. "How long has it been?" She asked softly. How long has he held it back? How long has she been ignorant? Now she thought back, all those times she spent eyeing others, all those times she longed for others in front of him.

"I think," he paused thoughtfully, "it was back in Ouran. You were the only girl that did not like me for my money, my appearance. I gradually started liking you, though I wasn't sure at the time. But...I think all the others caught on, especially Kyouya."

She smiled sadly. "He's too intuitive."

A bit the air of their old friendship came back. Was it possible that friendship and love could intertwine? Rarely, even in stories of great romance, has this ever worked. They said nothing between each other. The shallow pond rippled and reflected the moon light. Branches swayed along the gentle wind. The moment settled back to its kind self again.

He placed his hands around her shoulder, pulling her towards him, knowing that he made her blush, and he did not care this time. This was something he himself wanted to do. He hoped he had induced some romance in her, even if it was not passion.

Indeed she did. She was very overwhelmed. He was possibly more romantic than before, if that was even possible for one person. If she married him would he always be this tender with her? He leaned towards her ear and touched it ever so slightly with his lips, just enough for her to feel it.

He whispered faintly. She could not help but look into the moon anymore.

--

She tightened the hold she had on her worn out side pack. Her eyes focused themselves onto the rocky gravel on the edge of the wheel tracks. She felt a gentle pat from the wind upon her hands.

The sun rose slowly from behind the trees of the surrounding forest. The truck was nearing the foot of the mountain. They had traveled all night, the truck and its passengers, some civilians and some soldiers. Nobody took a second glance at the young Japanese woman amongst them, nor her grime-covered legs and shoes.

The location was almost right, she thought, looking up into the sky as if for a sign on the roadmap. The stars faded beyond the scope of her sight by daybreak. It was a beautiful countryside.

Up ahead, truck began slowing down for a check point. Barriers like this were all over the country, with mesh and barbed wires covering the length. The soldiers went to get a drink from a hut down the way, and she left the truck to near the forest. The soldiers did not really care where the other passengers went, because they were given orders to allow the passengers transportation to the next city.

Once near the denser part of the forest, she ran. She heard a small trickling in a direction. It was river, and she stepped onto the stones carefully and crossed, washing a bit of the mud on her shoes as she did so.

--

For the next few nights, she did not feel as indifferent to sleeping in the same bed as Tamaki as she did before. Many a nights did she gaze at the bedposts and white ceiling after he fell asleep.

There was one occasion during her stay at the lord's villa that she and Tamaki went to a banquet at another hotel. She remembered nothing of the particulars of the lavish dinner. She went to the hotel room quickly afterwards, desperate for some quiet time to sort out her mind.

The tub was surrounded by marble. She pressed her finger against the shiny cold marble to see her fingerprint as clear as light. Trying to conserve water in times of war, she filled it minimally, only so much so that the water would be level with her diaphragm. Ah...but she was still in a hot tub, hardly conserving anything.

She took off her clothes and stepped into the tub, trailing her legs gracefully behind her. It was truly an exquisite hotel, the choice for soaps and shampoos were all assorted neatly in a finely weaved brown basket. She did not know what the label said, so she picked up a light green bottle of body wash and hoped for the best.

On the other side of the room, Tamaki sat on the bed untying his tie. He heard the plop of her foot entering the water and stared into the ceiling absent-mindedly.

While she bathed, she thought of where she would sleep. Technically the bed was for two, and the most elegant bed she had ever seen, looking comfortable, but she did not think she would be able to fall asleep with Tamaki beside her, similar to the past few nights.

She leaned on her shoulder in the tub and sat still looking to the water's edge. She kicked her feet gently, paddling her hands to make waves in the water. She had not done so since her little tub in Japan. It was something she kept to herself.

How weird it was, for her to be still traveling with him. For sure, if Tamaki had told anyone that he was proposing to her, they would have made up their minds by now that they were engaged.

But they were not. Yet, from the lord's point of view they seemed to be, and in the hotel keeper's view - much to Haruhi's annoyance-she and Tamaki were deemed to be a couple and thus, put into the same room to share.

Afterwards she stepped out and dried herself, leaving her hair to dry by itself. She hated using blow-dryers. Unplugging the drain, she dressed and walked out with the towel on her shoulders.

Stepping out, she saw Tamaki lying on the bed. His tie was lying beside his head, and the top two buttons of his shirt was unbuttoned. He turned his head towards her.

"I'm done, you can use it now," Haruhi said, trying to get the water out of her right ear.

"Hmmm...I'm not washing tonight, I've got no energy left after talking to so many people..." he replied sleepily, trailing off.

"Why didn't you go to sleep then? Did I make too much noise in the bathroom?" She hoped silently that she had not started humming unconsciously. To her surprise, however, Tamaki sat up and walked towards her. She got nervous.

"Tamaki, are we sharing a bed?" asking mildly as if out of pure curiosity, but she said it too fast and too sudden, revealing the falseness in her voice, a frantic feeling rising inside her as his quick-paced step brought him nearer and nearer. He kept walking towards her stopped in front of her with a smile. Before she realized what he was doing, he placed one hand underneath her legs and one clutching her back, picking her up bridal style, walking towards the bed. The towel upon her shoulders to dry her hair fell onto the carpet.

"Senpai! Put me down!" she demanded loudly. But he just chuckled. She was so light. He could see her turning red. The arm holding her back had and extended hand, which curved near the side of her breast. Fearing being dropped, but still indignant about what he was doing, she tried to get away by turning.

"You're sleeping on the bed, of course. I can't let you sleep on the ground, and I don't want to do so either," he replied lightly.

He dropped her on the mattress gently, and walked across the room the close the lights. This was suddenly too much of an attack from him, too forward of a move. She was in disbelief. She had not replied his question yet, and rushing things was not in his nature. She panicked.

"Tamaki, wait I--," she tried to get her words out, but panic overtook her.

He laid down beside her, on her right side to be exact, and pulled the covers over. She was still sitting up, not knowing what to do.

"Haruhi, you better get some sleep, aren't you tired?" he asked with closed eyes.

"Aren't you going to change?"

He laid motionless, closing his eyes, leaning on his side towards her, still in his formal wear. She saw that he was tired, and clearly had no intention of seducing her. She could not believe she made such a preposterous assumption.

She laid down beside him and studied his expression. He was still Tamaki. He would never do anything like that to her. Feeling disgusted with herself, she turned away from him. She did not want to be so close to him, feeling bad, horrible inside, looking out the window. Although the distance within them was small, she wanted to separate herself from him as much as possible.

Suddenly she felt a weight on the side of her waist. His hand was around her, touching where her stomach was. Blushing, she felt herself being pulled softly towards him. His hands were surprisingly strong. She felt his breath against the back of her neck and her body tensed up. She did not dare anticipate the thought.

"Senpai?" she whispered quickly.

Tamaki felt her anxiety against his body, so he touched her side gently. Truly, he was tired from the day, but having someone against him was welcoming, sharing the same warmth. He stroked her arm gently, then her side, wanting her to relax. He would feel bad if he got her worked up just because he wanted to sleep beside her.

"...don't sleep so far away," she heard from behind her softly.

She closed her eyes and took deep breaths, relaxing her body against his warmth. She told herself repeatedly to relax, and wonder why she was not pulling herself away. The heat from his hands felt wonderful against the cold night outside. Her heart felt exhilarated inside. Every breath down her neck made her nervous.

She smiled sadly. She found his hand and placed her own on top, wrapping them around his hand. It was not right to toy with one's emotions, even if you were second-guessing yourself.

She whispered his name. She thought inside what life would be like with him. Indeed, she could not believe it of him, to move her closer to his body in bed, but she constantly forgot that he was not the young, frivolous boy in Ouran anymore. Just as she grew to be a stately woman with beauty and familiar taste that one had to look twice to pick out, he grew to be a man with wisdom that one had to think twice before admitting. And however more his instincts as a man was to be near her, she battled with this internally.

But she did not understand at all the passion in side him and strong desire to be near her, every want to pull her close to him, and never let go for others.

The passage of being a boy was gone, and even though more of the world stepped up to wear him down, he could offer his love genuinely to another. She did not feel so sure that she was deserving of such a mysterious wonderful dream, and felt a nervous lump inside.

R&R Thank you very much.

P.S I'm curious as to how old you guys think I am, and where I'm from. And I also sometimes wonder how old my readers are. I was kinda surprised when I found out some 12yr olds were reading Twilight; but again, this is just my curiosity


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